Gotterdammerung
by Cicero-Phelps
Summary: The third installment of the RDF Civil War Saga. Goodbyes are the order of the day, as our heroes recover and await a new dawn. COMPLETE
1. CliffhangerRecap

Gotterdammerung

The Third Chapter in the RDF Civil War Saga

            Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; may the rightful owners remember that if they want to take all of my debts for themselves.

Central Cast:

Robotech Defense Forces

Admiral Henry J. Gloval - Human male from Russian Consortium, Commanding Officer, Robotech Defense Force, SDF-1

Captain Elizabeth Juliet "Lisa" Hayes – Human female from New York Sector, Commanding Officer, Rogue VT Squadron, First Officer, SDF-1

Captain Richard Sinclair Hunter - Human male from the New England Sector, Commanding Officer, Skull VT Squadron, Wing Commander, SDF-1

Captain Maximillian Rudolph Sterling – Human male from the European Hegemony, Commanding Officer, Wraith VT Squadron

Captain Miriya Parino Sterling – Zentraedi female from Tirol, Commanding Officer, Hawkeye VT Squadron

Lt. Commander Claudia Elayne Grant – Human female from the African Congress, Military Liaison/Combat Controller, SDF-1

Lt. Commander Vanessa Erin Leeds – Human female from the Canadian Commonwealth, SDF-1 Radar/First Contact Specialist

Lieutenant Kimberly Anne Young – Human female from American Heartland Sector, SDF-1 Ship's Operations Officer

Lieutenant j.g. Samantha Cole Porter – Human female from American Midwestern Sector, SDF-1 Communications Specialist

Anti-RDF Rebels

General Vaclav Maistroff – Human male from European Hegemony, Commander in Chief, Anti-RDF rebellion

Colonel William Howe – Human male from United Kingdom, Infantry Commander, Anti-RDF rebellion

AN: Part three is starting off slow, but here's a teaser.  And if anyone has suggestions, desires of what to see in this installment, please email me.


	2. Here's the rock where's the hard place?

Chapter I 

            Admiral Henry J. Gloval wasn't the type to panic easily.

            True, the elevator car was hanging precariously inside a twenty-story shaft, and he was starting to feel a twinge of claustrophobia coming on.  But his entire bridge crew surrounded him inside that car, and even though the air was getting stale and the temperature was rising, he still had to maintain an air of command confidence.  He'd survived worse things than this; far and away the worst thing he'd endured in the recent past was piloting the SDF-1 through 60 layers of Zentraedi mothership to deploy reflex warheads and survive the combined destructive powers of 100 reflex furnaces banging down the ship's shields.

            "Admiral?"

            That was Lisa.  "Yes, Lisa?"

            "How do you suggest we try to get out of here?"

            "I'm open for suggestions; electrical engineering isn't really my speed."

            "Sir, I have an idea," Vanessa said.

            "What's that, Vanessa?"

            "We could try to use the circuit panel to hotwire the door controls and get us out of here."

            "We could be stuck between floors, though," Claudia pointed out.

            "Well, if we don't try anything, we'll suffocate, in time," Kim countered.

            "Go for it," the Admiral said.

            Vanessa got out the miniature tool kit that Rick had taken with him when he assaulted the battle fortress, and had subsequently abandoned during the mission.  She unscrewed the outer plate and took a look at the wires.  "Sammie, before I cannibalize these wires, could you try to reach the bridge through the emergency phone?"

            "Roger that, Vanessa," came the cheerful response.

            "Bridge, this is elevator car number THX-1138.  We're stuck inside the main elevator shaft.  Can you offer assistance?"

            "Elevator, this is the bridge.  We'd love to help, but we're up to our elbows in another mess at the moment."

            "Bridge, what appears to be the problem?"

            "Elevator, some sick bastard hit the self destruct sequence and is trying to send us to Kingdom come."

            "Bridge, this is Admiral Gloval speaking.  Are you certain that someone set the reactor into overdrive?"

            "Absolutely, Admiral.  I've got three captured techs up here trying to override the command, but they're making slow progress," Rick replied.

            "Understood, Bridge.  We'll see what we can do on our end.  Elevator out."

            "What's wrong, Admiral," Claudia asked.

            "Maistroff pulled a 'poison pill' maneuver on us," he grumbled.

            "What's that?"

            "He deliberately abandoned the vessel to us after rendering it unpleasant, thus making it unsuitable. And now he's hit the self-destruct mechanism to try to win against us."

            The girls in the car shrieked in horror.  "Ladies, please.  Let us focus on the task at hand and get out of here.  I'm sure that Captain Hunter will need our help as soon as possible, so please focus."

            Vanessa stripped the wires with the edge of a folding knife and got the fraying ends to tie together. Sweat beaded on her forehead and threatened to fog her glasses, but she forced herself to relax.  The wires sparked, and threw the doors into life.  The exhausted crew clambered out onto the nearest rungs, which were the access ladders in the elevator shafts.

            "You've gotta be kidding me," Kim groaned.  They were on the secondary bridge, fifteen levels below the main bridge.

            "Battle stations, ladies," Gloval ordered.  "Let's work on getting that reactor back under control."

            Lisa, Kim, and Sammie ran towards their keyboards.  "Vanessa, how much time do we have," Gloval continued.

            "Approximately two and one half hours, Admiral."

            "Claudia, tactical situation?"

            "Not good, sir.  Our missile batteries are inoperative, the lasers are below minimal firing power, shields are nil, and the rebels are regrouping twenty-five miles to the south.  They seem to have acquired long range Surface to Surface missiles, and are aiming them at us."

            "Bridge, this is Admiral Gloval speaking."

            "Bridge here, Admiral.  Where are you guys?"

            "Captain Hunter, we have gained access to the auxiliary bridge.  We have no external communications from here, and our resources are being put into stopping the reactor.  I'm putting you temporarily in charge of the safety of the whole ship."

            "Roger, Admiral.  Bridge out."

            Admiral Gloval looked around his command, the only true love of his life.  True, he'd been married before, in his twenties, to a woman three years younger than him, but that marriage had ended when she died in childbirth, along with their child, when a suicide bomber hit the hospital in Tel Aviv.  He had loved no other woman since then, and, indeed, it was in her memory that he'd enlisted in the Self Defense Forces. 

Then came the rapid global upheaval of the 80's; a new Soviet premier died every week, and the Eastern European governments fell like dominoes one after the other. Tensions were running high in Jerusalem, and the government was dithering like a schoolgirl on her prom night.  The UN incident came into the picture, hitting like a sledgehammer against a man's forehead, and he had to decide what to do next.  The American military made him a lucrative offer to train and lead a brand-new Special Operations force, and he'd agreed.

"Admiral?"

The omnipresent voice of subordinates.  They dictated every moment of his waking life.  "Yes, Lisa?"

"I think it may be possible to avert a reactor overload if we can shunt excess energy from the reactor to the Omni Directional Barrier System."

"Make it so. How much time do we have?"

"An hour and forty-five minutes, Sir."

"Work fast, ladies.  We don't have much time."

"Vanessa, Kim, it's a triple-encoded firewall I'm up against," Lisa said. "Tie your modules into my station and let's have at it."

Triple threat.  The Admiral smiled to himself as he watched his crew, no, his surrogate family, start cracking the barriers that protected the treat to their home.  This ship was still alive due to their creativity, their courage, their spirit.  He was the captain of the vessel, but they were the saviors.  He merely commanded them.

"Admiral?"

"Yes, Captain Hunter?"

"We've got three squads of enemy VT's coming in from the southwest.  Miriya and Max are deploying to face them, but they're outnumbered.  We're gonna need our guns, and we're gonna need them soon."

AN: Another exciting day at the office.  Please read and review.


	3. We are the Line

Chapter II Well, it's not the Blue Devil, but it'll do…Max thought ruefully as he traded the Apache gunship for a generic flight officer model VT.  The tan and white lines weren't GQ SDF-1, but it appeared to be flightworthy.  He just hated the fact that the VF-1A had only one head laser instead of four. Strapping in, he warmed up the engines and switched to Guardian mode. The incoming enemies were raw recruits, and had their best skills in Battloid mode.  Max wanted the greatest range of weaponry available, as well as the most maneuverability.  He sighed, knowing that he probably trained a bunch of those pilots, and regretted that he, their teacher, was going to be their instrument of destruction.  War was never fair, but it at least had a sense of humor. 

            He lined his troops in Guardian mode in two lines of mecha, twin infantry formation.  "Wraiths and Hawks, form up.  We're going to be facing our former and future comrades out there.  I know it's not going to be easy killing someone wearing the same uniform we are, but when we joined, we swore an oath to defend our shipmates, our planet, and our vessel from all enemies, foreign or domestic.

            "Your oath is what you're fighting for today.  Your honor rests in the pilot's yoke you hold in your hands.  It is freedom and justice that we stand for, and the defense of humanity, and all that makes us noble and decent.  We stand, here and now, for the last best hope this planet has for stability and prosperity.  Here we draw the line, this far and no farther.  Suit up, people.  Destiny awaits."

            His private comm line lit up.  "That was very eloquent, Maximillian.  You're a natural public speaker."

            "Thanks, Mir, but I only spoke cuz I knew the guys were nervous."

            "Well, as you Micronians say, 'Necessity is the mother of invention.'"

            The incoming missile barrage cut off whatever reply Max made.  It was like the archer's storms of ages past, with wave after wave of low-yield missiles designed for shock value more than destructive potential.  "Don't gain altitude, boys, they're trying to scare us into flying into their firing arcs.  Stay in formation."

            One rookie got spooked.  "No, Mitchell, stay in formation. It's a trick," Miriya yelled.

            Mitchell blew apart in a wave of heat and light.

            Artillery blasts landed near the front of the line.  Max did some planning, knowing that their laser batteries were trained to pick off aircraft at extreme ranges.  The only option was a full frontal Battloid engagement.  Max and Miriya marched to the front of the column and saw three full squads of Battloids marching their way.  "Able squad, take the right flank.  Charlie squad, take the left.  Hell is riding our way, and we're all the SDF-1 has to protect it.  Let them get to point-blank range and let fly with all you've got."

            The rookies charged the center of the line, and Max could tell that the pilots were greener than grass.  There was no coordination between soldiers, and no overall strategy.  There was just a wave of Battloids running towards his lines, and missiles overhead, with artillery randomly hitting the field.  "Like the Korean war," Max muttered.

            "What do you mean, boss," came an unknown voice.

            "Human wave tactics, very sloppy, but highly effective.  Howe must've had to brainwash the hell out of these kids."

            The missiles started falling back away from their position and towards the ship.  Max shouted, "All squads, breakout.  Hit em and hit em hard."

            The VT's counter-attacked along a mile-long front.  Miriya and two of her mates went towards the rear of the enemy line and took out the Archer missile launchers.  Max met the enemy line officer in hand-to-hand combat, praying for assistance as he always did.

            _Our Father, who art in Heaven…_

            Max dodged a huge fist heading his way, backpedaling and trying to ready his rifle.

            _Hallowed be Thy name…_

            The rifle got knocked away by a swift kick, leaving Max to assume a karate pose, Veritech style.

            _Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done…_

            He took a sideswipe at the opposing mech, denting its commander.

            _On Earth as it is in Heaven…_

            They closed with each other like prizefighters and traded shots with their huge fists.

            _Give us this day our daily bread…_

            Max got the upper hand and threw the opponent downrange.

            _And forgive us our trespasses…_

            He charged ahead, knowing he had gained the upper hand.

            _As we forgive those who trespass against us…_

            He had to abandon the prayer, as the fighter he just tossed opened up on his mech at close range with the minigun mounted under his right forearm.  Max groped for his rifle, and targeted the officer's cockpit.  He sighed, breathed a whisper for forgiveness, and took the shot.  The cockpit exploded like cheap wine in a pressurized chamber.         

            He looked around and saw that the rebels were steadily retreating.  The artillery was more sporadic and less concentrated, meaning Miriya and her boys had done their job.  He looked at his squad roster, and saw that only two pilots had been damaged, none seriously.  _Thank the Lord for small favors_.

            The klaxon shrilled in his ears.  He looked at the radar screen and saw incoming missiles again.  Waves of Guardian-mode VT's were sweeping in, and were trying to make sure that there were no survivors.  The tri-barreled mecha rifle bullets came raining down like tears of lead on an unfertile landscape, harvesting mayhem with every drop.  Max regrouped his men and had them assume Guardian mode.  The pilots sought each other in single combat, while Max and Miriya took out the artillery reinforcements coming up to the rear of the enemy's battle line.

            "Wraith One to SDF-1 bridge, Rick, can you read me?"

            "It's a go, Max, how's it going?"

            "Not so good, the furball is getting really hairy.  Where's that barrier?"

            "Patched into the main reactor and rigged to blow the ship."

            "You gotta be kidding me."

            "Not at all.  Lisa and the girls are hacking into the safeties, but they're hitting snags left and right.  We've got 45 minutes till we follow Dolza into the Great Spacefold in the Sky."

            "Sounds grim.  We'll hang on, Rick. It'll be okay if we play our cards right."

            "Bridge out."

            Max looked at the enemy forces arrayed against them, and knew that they were outnumbered.  He had one and a half squads to stand against the three he was engaged with now, and possibly another two heading their way within moments.  All of a sudden, the rebels disengaged and started retreating.

            "Skull Eight to Wraith Leader, shall we follow and engage?"

            "Negative, Eight.  We're lucky they ran when they did.  Hold your ground and stay in formation."

            "Wraith leader, this is the Bridge.  Congratulations.  The enemy is running and the ship is saved.  The bridge crew managed to reroute the energy buildup into the weapons systems."

            "Great day, then.  A ship saved, an explosion averted, and casualties minimized.  Wraiths, Rogues, Hawks, Skulls, let's head home."

AN: I'm playing it kinda fast and loose with the accepted facts of the character's personalities, but what the heck, we've seen Rick and Lisa acquire additional siblings, and Admiral Hayes have his name changed a dozen times, so I figure my own flavorings won't hurt it much.  I will detail more of their careers later on.  Meantime, enjoy.


	4. Clues and Investigations

Chapter III 

****

            Rick was glancing over the status screens when he heard a mechanical whoosh behind him.  He spun around, and the captive techies stood, as well.

            "Admiral on the bridge," Rick announced.

            "As you were, please," Gloval replied, returning their salutes.

            "As of this time and date, I hereby relinquish command of the SDF-1 back to you, Admiral," Rick stated formally.

            "I hereby reclaim command, Captain," Admiral Gloval replied.

            The bridge crew moved to assume their standard positions, and Rick moved towards the door, as if to leave the bridge.  "Captain Hunter, I did not say you were dismissed."

            "Apologies, sir."

            "If you would be so kind as to step into my ready room, I would appreciate a full report on your activities of the past three months."

            Rick followed his commanding officer into the Admiral's waiting room, and mentally reviewed all of his actions.

            Meantime, on the bridge, Lisa assumed the conning station in the Admiral's absence.  "Claudia, how many crew members were left aboard to run the ship before Rick retook the bridge?"

            "Just the three operators on the bridge, Lisa.  Maistroff seems to have shipped the crew out hither and yon."

            "Scan the ships' logs, I want to find out where our crew went to, and round them all up again."

            Kim bent over her scanner, while Sammie reviewed the communications logs, and Claudia kept a watchful eye on her radar, scanning for another attack.  "Lisa, Max is reporting a power failure in the VT fighter squadrons."

            "Bridge, this is the fighter bay; we're picking up an electromagnetic disturbance.  This disturbance is interfering with the VT instruments, including their transformation drives."

            "Fighter bay, this is the bridge.  Are you certain that the fighters won't transform?"

            "Absolutely, bridge.  Is something wrong in Engineering?"

            "Kim, run an analysis on the energy barrier."

            "Wilco, Lisa," the short brunette replied.

            "In the meantime, Max, you and most of your pilots have earned a rest.  Have Alpha flight take a guard position in the air and the rest of you can go to sleep," Lisa ordered.

            "Thanks, bridge, but I'd rather stay with my men."

            "That's an order, Captain Sterling.  You have now been up for 48 hours with no rest and fought in three consecutive battles.  Go to sleep."

            "Yes, bridge. Wraith Leader out," Max sighed, resigned to losing that argument.

            Admiral Gloval and Rick re-entered the bridge.  "What's going on, Lisa," the Admiral asked.

            "Admiral, we've got two problems on our hands.  We're trying to locate the crew for the ship, since it had been deserted, and Captain Sterling just informed us about an electromagnetic disturbance that's preventing the VT's from switching modes."

            Rick did a double-take.  "What the hell?"

            "We've started an investigation.  It should be complete in four hours.  Our scan of the city to locate the missing crewmembers should take three hours.  So we're in a waiting game for the moment.  What are your orders, Admiral?"

            "Since we cannot do anything for the moment, we wait.  We'll take shifts.  Kim, you, Claudia, and I will take the first shift.  The rest of you go below to your quarters and get some rest."

AN: I'm sorry it's short, but I needed a way to transition to the next part of the story.  This is basically a cut-scene.  By the way, I didn't explain the title, but it refers to a Wagner opera about a titanic battle between the gods. Please review and suggest what you wanna see.


	5. Love Will Never Die

Chapter IV 

            Rick took Lisa by the hand as they stumbled off the bridge towards the elevator.  It was a quiet ride down two floors, and neither one of them had much to say, anyway. Rick just looked at Lisa in exhausted silence.  Here, at last, was the woman he fought to rescue, within arms length, and looking beautiful through the streaks of carbon and sweat on her face.  True, the flight suit was rumpled, and the lighting was bad; a warship on a war footing always seemed to have terrible lighting, and it was made worse by the generator being on light duty for a while, but Lisa's beauty outshone the deepest darkness of Hell itself, light or none.  The doors parted, and the dim hallways led them on towards their new bunk, a room with a view of the sky and the stars.  Rick picked his way over bits of litter and blown-out wall sections towards the door that offered sanctuary and respite against the dying city and the cares of the pilots and officers that served with them.  Rick felt almost drunk with exhaustion as he slapped at the control that opened the door.

            "After you, Milady," he slurred.

            "Thank you, kind sssssir," she mumbled in reply.

            He took her by the hand and aided her towards the bed, but she pulled away slightly.  "First, I need a shower, Rick.  Why don't you lay down and I'll join you in a bit?"

            "Just holler if you feel like you're going to faint," he shouted back.

            "I'll leave the door partially open to ease your mind."

            "Good, I'll be waiting."

            Lisa Hayes slowly removed the grimy flight suit she'd scrounged from the base in Seattle off her body, and discarded it in the corner of the bathroom.  The shower was stainless steel, utilitarian, and forbidding, but the hot water sang to her sore muscles and her sleep-deprived brain like a tango stirs the blood of Latin lovers.  She tested the temperature, smiled, and surrounded herself with cascading torrents of fresh, warm water.  The chill of the bathroom reminded her of where she was, and what was going on, but the warmth of the water brought her back to the feelings of the man she loved.  Rick Hunter. 

She proceeded to eradicate the grime and muck of the past few days off her body, and watched the soap swirl it down the drain.  The respite would only be temporary, of course; Maistroff and Howe would be back again, in greater numbers, and try to eliminate them.  But the threat of annihilation didn't frighten her, oddly enough, because she was, once again, among her friends and surrogate family.  Let Death try to steal their lives, she smiled grimly.  That particular bill to pay would be dearer than their collectors would ever imagine.

She toweled dry and wrapped a long towel around her body.  The scars on her forearms were barely noticeable now, and the welts on her back were noticeably faded away.  She took pride in being able to take a beating and still live to tell about it.  It'd been a long time since she'd been battered that badly; she and a classmate in 6th grade got into a fight over a supposed slight the other girl felt Lisa had made.  Lisa got in a few shots before she was overpowered in an unfair situation that taught her a lesson she'd never forget. 

            Rick spent the whole time Lisa was in the shower just watching her every move.  He was entranced by this goddess of a woman, her movements, her curves, her absolute confidence that oozed from her skin like a natural pheromone.  It was intoxicating to be in the same room with her, and it absolutely blew his mind that she wanted him.  He looked at her face, how the water just pooled on her forehead and dripped from her eyebrows onto her nose, and how the water ran across the sleek curves of her face, how her damp hair looked all wrapped in a towel.  They locked eyes; it always amazed him how a simple look from her could freeze his breath and stop his heart.  "Lisa," he stuttered.

            "Yes, Rick?"

            He rushed across the room and swept her up in his arms, twirling her around.  "I'm so glad you're all right; I was afraid I'd lost you."

            "I'd climb through twelve layers of solid rock to see you again, Rick.  Never forget that."

            As he set her down again, he looked into her eyes and danced her over to the bed.  They locked fingers, then arms, then their bodies became entangled as if to meld their twin hearts into a larger, stronger heart, and the torrent of kisses hinted at the level of passion their souls could generate.

AN: Yes, we needed some downtime; Rick and Lisa hadn't been together like this since Chapter 5 of my last story, and it was long overdue.  I have to let my poet side run free occasionally. J  The storm will come, and the losses will be severe, but love never dies.


	6. A three hour tour, a three hour tour

Chapter V 

            The bed was really more like a cot, and calling it a bed belied the innate discomfort inherent in the object.  The windows were open, and a chill breeze blew through the room, hinting at the mist outside; the thin blanket appropriated from the mess on the floor wasn't nearly adequate enough to hide the two occupants of the room from any of the discomfort.  Rick looked out the window through sleep-haunted eyes and wondered how much death would be brought through the skies in the days and weeks ahead, and how many more pilots and soldiers would need to be sacrificed in order to stop the insanity of civil war.

            The warmth of Lisa's body gave him pause.  Did he really have to leave the bed, leave the woman he loved so dearly, and place them both in harms way yet again?  Sadly, the answer was yes, but this time, they wouldn't be alone.  She sighed softly and rolled closer to him, her breath in his face, her legs wrapped around his, and he ran his fingers once more through the length of her thick, auburn hair.  The light on the desk burned with a low, surreal intensity and the wind was starting to pick up outside the window.  Lightning flashed across the sky, brightening the room as it sparked the heavens.  And, like it always did, for the past three years and more of his life, the ship's intercom prompted him to get out of bed.

            "Captain Hayes and Captain Hunter, please report to the bridge."

            They rolled out of bed and onto the floor, yelping at the sudden impact of the carpet on exposed knees and elbows.  Rick pulled on his flight suit again, not bothering to fasten it quite yet, and cursed the fact that all of his personal possessions had been lost or destroyed.  Then, there was a slip of paper slid under the door, and Rick threw the door open.  There, at his feet, were two fresh, new uniforms.

            The couple hurriedly dressed, and raced to the bridge.  Once there, Admiral Gloval greeted them with perfunctory kindness.  "Greetings, both of you.  There have been a few developments since you went off-duty, ones which you need to be made aware of.  First and foremost, we've been in touch with the E.S.S. Enterprise battle group, and they're sailing this way to join forces with us.  This will add an aircraft carrier, two battleships, and four destroyers to our defenses.  Vice Admiral Gates has offered to replace the gaps in our Table of Organization with enlisted men and officers from his ranks.

            In addition, Claudia seems to have gotten a fix on some hostages.  Claudia?"

            The tall, slender woman stepped forward with her omnipresent clipboard, glanced over some notes, and began speaking.  "Two hours ago, we received a communiqué from an unknown caller.  He stated that he and his associates were in possession of about six RDF officers, mostly from the engineering section.  They demand our surrender in exchange for the lives of the hostages."

            "Do we have a trace on where they're located," Rick asked.

            "I tried, Rick," Vanessa replied, "but the harmonics on the vocal recording weren't specific enough to pinpoint a location."

            "Damn, its never easy, is it," Kim grumbled.

            "No, Kim, it never is," Admiral Gloval replied.  "But Vanessa and Sammie will continue scanning, while the remainder of us suits up and searches the rubble in the south-central sector."

            Kim gave the Admiral a white-eyed look, but suppressed her reaction.  "How long do we have to look for them," she asked instead.

            "We have three hours," Claudia said.  "Then they begin killing hostages."

            The general mood in the room went from tense to frazzled.  Admiral Gloval got up and said, "People, we have to calm down and start working.  For this mission, we will carry a Galail rifle and our MOG's.  Standard load for both, but be careful, we'll have friendlies in the area.  We can't lose them."

            Max and Miriya looked at each other, shrugged, and moved off.  Claudia followed them, as did Rick and Lisa.  Kim staggered to her feet, looking incredibly scared.  "Lieutenant Young, may I speak to you for a minute," Admiral Gloval said.

            "Yes, sir," Kim stammered.

            "Kim, I know this isn't exactly your line of expertise, but we need you out there," he said, looking into her confused and scared expression.

            "But I've never been on a combat patrol before," she replied.

            "We need you to scan for explosives as we look for the hostages, Kim.  You have the best scanning skills in the search party.  We'll watch out for you, you just have to watch out for us.  Okay?"

            "Yes, sir," she replied, saluting.

            "Good girl," Gloval replied.  "Report to Armory 6, we'll suit up for the search."

            Rick opened the locker and looked at the contents.  Laser-proof vest.  Eye protection.  Knee and elbow pads.  Kevlar jacket.  Armor-soled boots.  He applied the equipment layer by layer, finishing with an urban-camouflage blue-black-and-gray uniform.  He then put his harnesses and holsters on, one for the MOG, one for the half-dozen thin, double-edged throwing knives the commandos carried, and one for the bayonet for his Galil rifle.  Then came the ammo pouches, carrying extra 50 round magazines for the Israeli battle rifle he was carrying.  He was issued three extra magazines for the patrol, a fact that was comforting.  If everyone in the patrol missed with their 200 rounds, or went up against something that could take 1200 bullets and not stop, then they were in a more serious predicament than they'd thought.

            Lisa was almost ready, as was Miriya.  Kim was an unknown factor; Rick had never seen her in combat, and wasn't sure how she'd hold up under fire.  But with the girls around, she should be fine.  He hoped.

            Max looked at him and said, "Are you ready, Rick?"

            "I'm never ready anymore, Max, but if it means getting home faster, then let's pull it off."

            "I hear you, boss," his wingman replied.

            "The both of you will make it back, gentlemen," Gloval said, "because I have never lost a man under my command to enemy fire in any of my missions."

            "I'll take that as the ultimate reassurance, sir," Rick said.

            "Ditto, sir," Max replied, saluting.

            "Thanks, both of you.  Now, let's get some wheels, and start searching; we only have two hours left."

AN: Thanks for all the encouragement, guys.  It took me a long time to write this, but only because I had to make sure the plot had no holes you could pilot a VT through. J  R&R, please!


	7. Taking it to the enemy

Chapter VI 

            The hovercraft stood in the hangar bay, looking like it'd been through the GCW, the Line, and half the Rebellion.  It stood about as tall as an Abrams tank, and was crisscrossed with dents and carbon scoring by the bow, which was formed by twin parallel horizontal plates that swung out for infantrymen to swarm through.  There were twin open-air turrets, each sporting twin Ma-Deuce .50 caliber machine guns and a searchlight, covered by a slice of curved bulletproof glass over the crewman's head. 

The pilot's module had a searchlight, too, which benefited the pilot, as the module was situated right above and in back of the bay doors, and offered the pilot a full 360 degree view of the battlefield.  The pilot controlled twin 12-pack SRM launchers from his control tower, which gave him some protection against the enemy, in addition to his substantially armored cockpit.  The armament was completed with twin pulse laser batteries, one on each side of the troop bay.  All in all, it was a good choice for a heavy-assault craft, but a tad heavy for patrol duty.  The reason, though, that they took it was that the other landing craft had been damaged or destroyed.

            Miriya and Max took the twin turrets, which resembled the ball turrets from aircraft more than 60 years prior, while Admiral Gloval and Lisa took the pilot's module, and the rest rode in the infantry bay.  The search location was five square city blocks, and they had two hours to hit every place in it.  Or, at least, enough to find the hostages.

            "Kim, are there any energy sources you can pinpoint to make this easier," the Admiral called down.

            "I think I've picked up a military-grade communications transmitter down the block, about ten houses away.  Not typical in this neighborhood."

            The hovercraft floated to a stop five houses away from their destination.  Rick looked through the window at a three-story plaster-and-brick house, with a crumbling front porch, a lousy roof, two cars in the driveway and loud, obnoxious music blaring. 

Rick nodded at Miriya, who left the turret and took up a heavy battering cylinder like it was a paperweight.  Then, he radioed the cockpit, "Ready, Admiral. Condition green."

            The bay doors parted and the five uniformed friends rushed out onto the street, looking at their intended target.  Rick and Max flanked the building, while Kim switched places with Lisa in the module and, with Claudia in tow, Lisa took her place behind Miriya at the front door.  All rifles were aimed at the house, and the helmeted radio gear was buzzing with unspoken tension.

            "_NOW!_"

            On Gloval's command, Miriya broke the door open with the cylinder and took up her rifle as they charged into the house.  There were two occupants at the card table in the living room, and they were taken into custody without any resistance.  Rick came through the back door, and Max came through the garage entrance, sweeping his barrel in the forward and left/right side firing arcs.  Lisa took control of the captives as Miriya held them both, one in each hand.

            "Where are the hostages?  Look me in the eye and tell me where they are!"

            The first guy, a scraggly, bearded fellow with more in his physique than muscle and beer on his breath, stammered, "Up the stairs, man, they're up there, third floor!"

            Rick led the charge up the stairs, but was stopped short by a broadcast from Kim.  "Be warned, guys, we're taking fire from some of the surrounding structures.  There are hostiles everywhere, and we're taking hits.  We need assistance."

            Outside, the Admiral had sighted a group of snipers who had taken cover inside an abandoned school.  He called up the targeting computer and boxed in two shooters armed with man-sized SRM launchers.  Then, the firing control told him that the portside missile rack had jammed.  He grabbed his pistol, turned up his armored collar, and crawled out of the command tower to see if he could make it to one of the twin turrets, as a rocket knocked out the passage from the cockpit to the cabin.  A sniper's bullet caromed off the windshield as he passed.  Admiral Gloval rolled onto his back, and then to his knees, pointing his MOG at the sky, trying to see where the bullet had come from.  He saw a silhouette against the sky, and, calming his heart rate and clearing his mind, a technique he'd learned after long hours on the range with live sniper rounds hitting all around him, targeted his adversary.  That advanced course would prove very helpful yet again.

            Henry aimed carefully at the man above the streets, and time slowed again.  How many times had he trained for this?  How many shots had he made in simulation for just such an incident?  He concentrated on that one blot against the sun, and put over 30 years of military training into that one shot.

            The standard issue ammunition hit the sniper in the neck, and, as he squirmed in agony, Henry's second shot caught him in the face.  The figure slumped against the edge of the roof, devoid of resistance.  Henry didn't remain long in place to mourn the loss of his assailant, and scrambled to the gun turret.

            Rick kicked in the door to the third-floor bedroom, and, after poking the barrel of his rifle through, entered it.  The house was disgustingly deserted, despite what their snitch told them.  "Base, this is Hunter.  Were there any escapees from the house?"

            "No, Hunter," came Kim's voice, "Base does not read any escapees.  The target is dead; repeat, the target is dead, and we're still taking fire."

            Rick and Max ran to the window of the room and started applying semi-automatic fire downrange at the shooters they saw in the streets and on the rooftops.  Lisa, Miriya, and Claudia were all on the second floor, and he could hear their efforts to join in and help defend the ship.  He saw the Admiral in one of the ball turrets, training the guns on the enemies in the street, who just kept rushing forward and getting mowed down like weeds.    Then, Rick saw the flash of something come out of the corner of his eye.  "RPG!" he screamed, and ducked away from the window.  The rocket didn't hit his floor, but it did hit the building he was in.  The two men raced downward to get out of the house, and, as they passed the second floor landing, saw that the girls were all wounded to some degree or another; Claudia was still upright, but had a damaged right arm, Miriya was clutching her left leg, and Lisa was unconscious, because she was the closest to the window.  Rick helped Miriya stand up and lean against Max as they hobbled down the stairs, then looked at Claudia, who nodded, and took Lisa by the neck of her uniform while Rick grabbed her feet.  _This was a very elaborate trap,_ he mused through his fury and dread.  They got back into the hovercraft and, with Henry taking one turret and Max taking the other, they left the neighborhood.  Rick was on the control module during the escape, and he radioed ahead, "Bridge, this is Hunter.  Please stand by to receive wounded.  We have some serious injuries in here, over."

            "Will do, Rick.  By the way, we got a transmission from the terrorists.  They've killed their hostages already.

AN: Did this shock you or what?  Hell, I shocked myself.  I tried being gritty and realistic, but I'm not sure I succeeded.  Please, R&R as always. J


	8. And All My Dreams, Torn Asunder

Chapter VII 

            Lisa was brought into the intensive care ward, once more a patient onboard the SDF-1.  One of Vice Admiral Gates' doctors had already come aboard, and he hooked Lisa up to the scanning unit.  Lisa, meanwhile, was starting to have strange dreams while she was unconscious.

_Where am I?_

_[Alaska Base.]_

            _Why am I here again?_

_            [Because your psyche associates pain and loss with this place.]_

The command post is frozen in time, like a wax museum.  Lisa took some deep breaths, let the tension flow out of her nose, into the air around her.  She looked at the women sitting next to my station; Christine to her left, Alexandra to her right.  They were sipping their coffee and bullshitting each other about their idol dujour – the good-looking Lieutenant Hauser.  The words died on their lips two years ago, but she still remembered the way they looked, their body language and pose on their final shift.

_            I don't want to relive this night._

_            [It is your choice entirely.  If not here, then where? When?]_

The scene changed to the corridor outside the SDF-1 bridge. She looked down at her uniform, and her hands were bloody.  She felt her back ache, and there was a small gash in her left thigh.  Then, she noticed that, slowly but surely, the lights were going off in the ship; she could feel the power fluctuate and the decks shudder.  She staggered towards the bridge, and pried the door open.  Inside, the bridge window is shattered, with huge bits strewn across the deck.  She stepped into a pool of sticky stuff; a quick look down confirms that it is blood.  She jumped back in shock, recoiling at the sight.  She backed into a semi-frozen body, and she whipped around into-

            Into Sammie's face.

            She tried to scream, but no sounds come out.  She turned around and tried to run away, but at the bridge console, she saw Claudia's body lying across Lisa's terminal.

            Lisa scanned the rest of the bridge, as well.  Admiral Gloval was still in his chair, transfixed to his command post by a huge steel beam that had formerly edged the window.  His eyes were staring straight ahead, lost in wonder that bespoke a child's curiosity with a shooting star.  Vanessa was bent over her console, her spine snapped in two, and Kim had taken a header into her console. 

Why Lisa was alive at all was a mystery to her.   Why wasn't she at the bridge when they died?  What caused the accident?  Those questions would have to wait; the soldier in her demanded to know the tactical situation, so she forced herself to roll Claudia's body off her terminal and onto the deck, trying to cushion the fall as much as possible.  Then she looked at her board, and hated what she saw.

            As enemy VT flights circled overhead, in the gathering dusk and smoky air, the damage reports came rolling in.  Main generator: damaged.  Communications: barely working.  Vehicle hanger: demolished, and the mecha within worthless.  The air defenses were being taken out systematically, and it wasn't fun for Lisa to watch the whole board light up like a Roman candle.  She scanned the sky for friendly transponders, and saw three flashes.  There were fifty enemy VT fighters swarming all over the place, and a dozen land mechs assaulting the ground fortifications.  The three friendlies in the sky were diving, climbing, swerving and sliding, but their fuel reserves were almost gone, and they were low on ammunition, as well.  She surveyed the landscape, and saw the wreckage of countless VT's strewn across Macross City.

            "Veritech group, this is the bridge," she managed to get out.  "Who am I addressing?"

            "Lisa, is that you," came a pained response.

            "Rick, are you okay?"

            "No, I'm not.  My left arm is useless, I'm leaking fuel, and I'm almost out of ammunition.  Max and Miriya are dead, and so is the bridge crew."

            "Rick, I'm so sorry," she trembled, her lips quivering, her eyes tearing.

            "Me, too, but in a few seconds, sorry won't matter a damn.  We've lost, Lisa.  All I can do is try and take as many of these bastards with me as possible."

            "No, Rick, no, please," she started bawling.

            "Lisa, it's okay.  I love you, and I'll see you on the other side."

            Rick's fighter flattened out, and the rays of the fading sunlight caught the paint job on his VT fighter, the grinning skull of his squadron icon begging for the enemy to show themselves, which was actually very easy at that specific moment.  His wings were scored with burn marks, and the flaps were slightly damaged.  Lisa saw his engine monitor start the climb towards overload, and head out over the ocean, where the enemy aircraft carrier _Vercingetorix_ was anchored.

            "Rick!"

            The most famous plane of the post-apocalyptic Earth hurtled at full velocity towards the behemoth aircraft carrier.  The sunlight faded across the horizon, bringing the gold, the orange, and then the red rays of light to bear on the bridge.  Lisa couldn't bear to watch what was going to happen next, but she forced herself because she couldn't _not_ watch it, either.  Skull One hit the enemy ship at maximum speed, tearing a gaping hole in its deck and sending it on its way to the bottom.

            _Goodbye, my love, my one true star,_ she thought.

            "All surviving friendly units, this is Captain Lisa Hayes," she began, trying to fight off tears. "Captain Hunter and our air force are all dead.  The other RDF officers are dead.  Whoever can hear me, you're the last remnants of our cause.  The SDF-1 is dead, there is no hope for resurrection.  Please evacuate yourselves and try to rescue as many civilians as you can from your immediate area.  The enemy is all over us."

            She began weeping openly, "There is no hope, this is our last option.  Can anyone hear me?"

            Satisfied that no one could hear her, or respond, she picked her way across the bridge to the Engineering panel, where Sammie used to sit.  She punched in a code, and a red button popped up.  Sobbing hysterically, she punched it with all her might.

            And then, she opened her eyes.  She stared at the ceiling, wondering what brought her to that dream, what could have possessed her to think such thoughts.  She looked at the doctor, who was looking her over in a worried manner, and she saw Rick at her bedside.  "Oh, Rick, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had."

            He looked into her eyes and smiled.  "As long as you're all right now, it's okay," he grinned, leaning in for a kiss.

            She grinned back, accepting his kiss.

            It was good to be back to reality.

AN: Sorry about the depressing nightmare; I just had inspiration from a GI Joe fanfic about the episode "Worlds Without End", which was an alternate reality where almost all of the main characters were killed off and the survivors had to deal with it.  Enjoy, folks.  BTW, I broke my promise; this chapter is rated R, if for no other reason than I don't want to get upset if I under-classify it.


	9. The Man Behind The Mask

Chapter VIII 

The mood on the bridge was downright ugly. The late afternoon sun had long faded to a murky dusk and near moonrise as Admiral Gloval paced the bridge, smoking his pipe; his mood was so bad that none of the bridge crew dared to call him on it. Henry considered the fine hickory wood stem clenched in his teeth; it had not deserted him after all these years, as many faux comrades and women had.

The reinforcements were coming, he knew. They would be there soon. But he and his crew were vulnerable in the meantime. Max was in the air, overseeing the new security perimeter and clearing the runway for the transports to come in.

Finally, after fifteen more minutes of pacing, Henry turned to bark questions at his crew. "Ship's status?"

"Armaments and shielding at 65%, Admiral," Claudia reported.

"Radar and communications holding steady at 79% efficiency, sir, "Vanessa reported.

"Reactor is at 50%, rather iffy at the moment, sir. If we needed extra power in a crunch, we may not have it," Sammie added.

"And the perimeter is mostly secure, Admiral," Max radioed in, "But I wouldn't say the same about what lies outside the city walls."

"Captain Sterling, what's your assessment," Admiral Gloval asked.

"Frankly, sir, I think we're screwed until help arrives. My pilots can't deliver ground and air security and help repair the ship all at once, they're only human, sir."

Henry sighed and thought it over a bit more. Max was right; they were on edge and doing all they could, but they couldn't do any more good till the reinforcements came through. He noticed that Rick was missing, and decided to take a look around for him.

Henry stood up, calling out, "Claudia, you have the conn," as he strode towards the elevator. He had no idea where to start looking for Rick, but headed towards Sickbay on a hunch.

Rick was pacing back and forth across the hallway, since the doctor told him that Lisa needed a rest, and he wasn't willing to go back to his quarters quite yet. The pilots outside probably needed him more than the deck needed another groove in it, but he knew that once he climbed into that cockpit he'd remain distracted over Lisa. So he did what he was able to at the moment; pace and mutter prayers under his breath. He was so intent on pondering the frailty of the human body that he hadn't heard Admiral Gloval arrive.

Henry saw the young man attempt a salute, but waved it away. "At ease, Rick," he said. "We're both off duty, no need for formalities. And, please, call me Henry."

"Yes, sir," Rick answered.

"Stop with the 'sir'," Henry said, too obviously trying to hide a smile.

"I'll try," Rick said sheepishly.

"What's keeping you down here at this hour, Rick," Henry asked.

"Well, I'm worried about Lisa, I can't focus enough to fly, I'm too wired mentally to sleep, and we've all been to hell and back in the past three months, it's just getting to me finally."

Henry looked at his most anguished ace pilot. "Rick, you're how old, now?"

"Twenty-three, Henry," he replied, softly.

"Old enough, I assume, to know the sting of Cupid's arrow?"

Rick grinned weakly. "A bit."

Henry flicked his steely gaze at Lisa's slumbering form, then back at Rick. "Lisa is a strong woman, Rick, I'm sure you've noticed that…"

"I have, Henry. It's her strength that got me through the past three months."

"She's been like a second daughter to me," Henry said glumly. Rick noticed the utter despair in the Admiral's eyes. "I never told anyone about my wife before, Rick. But from the look on your face every time you know that Lisa is in danger, I know you'll appreciate this.

"Before the GCW, I was stationed on the _Minsk_, a K-142 class submarine in the Russian navy. But I didn't want to be on the ship at that time, you understand. Even though it was everything a sailor could have asked for in a ship, considering how bankrupt and poorly supplied the Soviet government was, my heart wasn't really with me when I left port on all my missions. I was married, and in love, with the most wonderful woman in the world. Irina Petrovna was perfect in my eyes; no other woman could approach her beauty and character. I was twenty-one, she was eighteen. I was a mere Lieutenant in the Soviet navy, but to her, I was the one, rank or none. Of course, some Party officials were slightly concerned about her religious background; she was Jewish, and I was agnostic, but my captain had enough pull inside the party to protect me from whatever wrath the hardliners may have wanted to visit upon me.

"Anyway, by 1985 I had been promoted to Commander, and become the Executive Officer of the Minsk, a rapid promotion for one of my age. Irina and I celebrated merrily when I got promoted, and soon we were expecting Anna, our first child. It was arranged for her to travel to visit her relatives in Israel while I was off on patrol for the next nine months. That was the longest patrol of my life, what with the baby and the fact that our leadership was having heart attacks every other month. Nine months after the _Minsk_ left Sevastapol on our patrol of the Mediterranean, we returned to the eastern shores, and I got leave from my Captain to visit the Soviet consulate in Tel Aviv, with a wink and a nod saying I could visit my wife while in port, saying it was a 'State Mission'.

"I'll always remember that day in my mind; the sun was beginning to rise on the waterfront. Irina met me at the wharf, clad in a simple blue knit skirt and white blouse. Her strawberry blonde hair was done up in a simple bun, her hazel eyes were wild with mischief, and her smile was as radiant as sunshine. We rushed passionately into each other's arms, and went off to her uncle and aunt's house, so she could introduce me to them. The road was covered with fine sand as we briskly walked down the street in the light of the rising sun.

"The air wasn't too humid for a city by the sea, and it had all the makings of a beautiful day. We took the first city bus we could hail and it took us to Irina's relative's house. They welcomed me warmly, and took me to their hearts. Irina told us that she was having contractions around noon, so we took her to the hospital. They took her into the room, and told me that, because I wasn't antiseptic, I couldn't enter. They made me wait in the lobby, and I paced the floor. It was the longest time of my life; I was excited, nervous, anxious, and scared all at once."

Rick could see the older man's body tense up in terrible agony, almost as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "It took her six hours to go through labor, and Irina's folks told me to go get something to eat, because I was doing nothing productive. She'll be fine, they said. 'We'll guide her outside to you when she's feeling better,' they said. I went across the street to a restaurant and got a bottle of beer and a sandwich. I looked outside the window and saw a man running madly for the hospital emergency entrance. At the same time, they were rolling Irina and the baby through the emergency ward to the other wing of the hospital. The crazed man was a suicide bomber," he finished, bursting into tears uncontrollably.

Rick looked at Henry Gloval the man, not the stellar officer, and found a new level of respect for him. He offered Henry a solid, reassuring pat on the back. After a small eternity, Henry choked back his tears and smiled bittersweetly. "Lisa is the same age my daughter would have been, had she lived. And ever since she came under my command, I've looked out for her, both out of personal concern, and as a favor to her father, an old friend of mine. He and I had squared off against each other as often as we've faced enemy forces together. And now, with Donald gone, she's become even more of a daughter to me. I know how you feel, Rick, because I don't want to lose her, either. She means almost as much to me as she does to you."

"I knew that already, Henry."

"But I can also say, Rick, that Donald would be happy and proud of you…at least twice as proud as I already am."

Rick shook Henry's outstretched hand. "Thank you. I'll try to live up to that."

"I know you will," Henry replied. "Just keep her happy, and we'll both do our best to keep her safe. Is that a deal?"

"Deal, sir," Rick smiled widely.

AN: Took me a while to write this chapter, but I hope it pays off. I noticed that my sketch of Admiral Gloval didn't square with the version, so I had to make a small editing clarification. Hope you enjoy it!


	10. Scramble!

Chapter IX 

Rick and Henry paid a short visit to the Chapel, then returned to their duties. Rick went back to his room to change for patrol duty, and Henry returned to the bridge.

"Admiral, sir, we received a communication from New Portland," Claudia reported.

"What did they have to say?"

"Well, sir, Lt. Colonel Slydell told me that he's on his way to reinforce our position. Out of the 10,000 infantry that he had at New Portland, he's bringing 8,000 with him, as well as fifty VT's and their repair crews. And Monument City radios in that they're sending their vehicle fleet, one hundred and fifty armored craft of all sorts."

Admiral Gloval smiled; this was the first bit of good news he'd had in the past few months. "Captain Sterling, what is the condition of your men," he radioed.

"We're still working, Admiral; twelve hours and still going strong. But the defensive structures are quite impressive, as static perimeters go. Claudia and I have been developing a new tactic, to go along with the irregularities in the ODB."

"Go ahead, Max."

"Well, Admiral," Max continued. "No matter how many mechs we have on our side, Maistroff can always bring up more, in an attempt to overwhelm us."

"Simple attrition. How do you plan to counter it?"

"Well, I remember that when our pilots stood down after the last fight, we had problems with the mode-changing abilities. Lisa and Claudia found some irregularities in the ODB, which prevented the changes. Claudia and I figure that we can lure their mecha into close quarter combat and engage the barrier, immobilizing their VT's and leaving only whatever Destroids they want to throw at us."

"Depriving them of air support is a good idea, Captain Sterling. But how could we deprive them of their armored assault capacity?"

"How did you defeat armored columns in the GCW?"

"We dug anti-tank ditches around our positions, laying high explosives at the bottom and remote-detonating them."

"Could it work with an even deeper hole and more explosives?"

"Possibly, but to simultaneously detonate as many mechs in the assault wave as they'll throw at us, it'll take more protoculture weaponry than we've got handy, Sterling."

"Actually, sir, I was thinking of a combination of mines and some…other tricks. I'll explain more fully indoors; we're finishing up for the night."

"Agreed, Max. Come home and get some rest."

As the pilots and their construction mecha returned to the base, klaxons blared and the ground shook. Max took a look at the incoming fighters and cursed. "Air raid, southwestern wall. Five bogies, typical armaments."

Max was driving a typical construction mech; a nail gun for a right forearm and a basic claw attachment serving as a left hand to manipulate items for use. Max took aim at the flight of fighters with his nail gun, knowing that it was a nearly impossible shot to make, but feeling, at the same time, that he had to take the chance. Each nail was the better part of two meters long, diamond-shafted, and tipped with some obscure Zentraedi metal that Miriya told them about and he'd never remembered the name of.

The other suits were armed with industrial-grade welders and/or chainsaws, although there were about a dozen other mechs with nail guns as well. None of the construction mechs were exactly suited for battle against VT fighters. Still, a hailstorm of nails flung forth from the defenders, _like a hail of arrows at the ancient battle of Shrewsbury_, Max thought.

Rick raced towards the Skull One, hoping to join the fight. The ground shook as he pulled his flight helmet on and climbed up the ladder to the cockpit. The flight checklist scrolled past as it always did, but it never came fast enough for Rick. Three seconds later, he was flying towards the ever-blackening sky and yet more combat. Max and his archers had taken out three of the incoming bogeys with their nail guns, but there were at least two more flights incoming and the work party wasn't going to have any more luck unless they changed machines. Rick targeted the nearest three fighters with a missile spread and let loose. Cluster munitions were fun things; they could hurt several targets at once. Thing was, it was like a mech-sized shotgun; good for dealing decent damage to many, but hard to target individually.

The cluster rockets threw out enough flak to send the three fighters into a tailspin, eliminating their threat. Another four flights started coming in, and Rick switched to Battloid mode to spin faster in midair and target the new intruders. Behind him, the flight deck disgorged it's belly and the VT's on duty sped toward the distant horizon. With more fire support, the odds didn't look so grim, especially when he saw the Blue Devil and the Crimson Comet streak by and add their missiles to the fracas. Max and Miriya had apparently switched their transportation and wanted to join the fun. On the edge of the battlefield, however, their squads were losing brownies left and right; the rookies hadn't had enough flight time to save their collective posteriors in a dogfight. The light assault tanks were moving in, and they had no infantry to counter the movements.

"Bridge, this is Skull Lead. Can you redirect all anti-aircraft batteries for ground fire?"

"Skull Lead, this is the Bridge," Claudia said. "Please wait a few moments, and we shall recalibrate the firing solutions."

A laser barely missed Rick's cockpit, and he gritted his teeth. "Could you hurry it up a touch? I'm feeling like a pincushion up here."

"We're trying, Leader, but we're having problems trying to gain enough elevation to clear the walls. They're always in the way."

"Bridge, this is Wraith One," Max's voice came, cool and collected. "We've got some construction mechs still trapped outside the city. They can defend themselves somewhat, but what I was thinking is patching the missile pods into their telemetry readings and using them as forward fire observers."

"That could work," Kim's voice said. Nails clicked against keys on her console, and her voice returned. "Everything should be set, Sirs. We may fire when ready."

Claudia pushed the firing button and started raining hell down upon the incoming enemy. Up in the skies, Max, Miriya and Rick swept the remnants of the miniscule air raid away like crumbs off a plate. Suddenly, after taking massive hits, the enemy turned tail and ran. Some of the rookies cheered.

"No chatter, boys," Miriya snapped.

Max agreed, "This is only round one. Keep alert; there may be more coming."

"Max, Miriya, let's post a token flight of sentries and go home. I hear sleep calling to me, and I'm sure it does to you, as well. Let's pack her up and go in for the night. Skull Three, Wraith Four, stand watch and ring the bell if the wolves come back."

AN: The mojo is flowing again. J Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing.


	11. By the dawn's early light

Chapter X 

Rick rubbed his weary eyes as the VT came to a stop on the tarmac. He'd been up for the better part of eighteen hours straight, and been shot at, blown up, heart-wrenched, and shot at some more for most of his waking day. Max and Miriya looked like stumbling ghosts as they made their way towards the locker room; Rick supposed he looked no better than they did. His wrist console beeped; MedLab showed that Lisa was released while he was in combat, and she was back in his quarters. His heart picked up at hearing that; he ran back to the locker room and, hastily showering, dressed for off-duty. The skies outside started hinting strongly of a wild rain, and Rick hated cold rain with a passion, an aversion he developed while a youth on many camping trips, where his rain gear failed him.

Rick slouched against the elevator wall as it transported him back towards sanctuary. He hadn't felt this tired in a long time, close to an eternity. When the car stopped, he felt as if he'd spent five years of his life just waiting for the slow-moving elevator to carry him back to his quarters. He stumbled out of the elevator and back into the previously clean hallway; the many bombardments that the ship had endured on top of the lacking personnel had left the ship in a perpetual state of mess.

He unlocked and opened the door to his quarters, and saw Lisa sitting on the couch, waiting for him. He smelled the strong, rich aroma of coffee that filled his quarters, and saw that she already had poured him a large mug of it and had a bowl of popcorn ready, as well. He smiled and sat down opposite her. They each smiled at the other, sipping at their coffee. A few moments later, they drooped all pretenses at their interest in coffee and, setting their mugs aside, flung themselves into a passionate embrace, totally lost in each other's arms and lips. What had begun as a wonderful welcome home gesture became a frantic demonstration of their love, as if they could, either one of them, forget it.

Midnight, that most enchanted of all hours of the clock, came and went and they still were on the couch, wrapped up in a warm embrace that would fuel several small villages for centuries to come. Rick broke the embrace for a single moment only, to take Lisa up in his arms and carry her over to the bed. They looked deeply into each other's eyes and reaffirmed a love affair that began before they even consciously accepted its beginning. The lights in the cabin burned low but persistently all night, a persistent testimony to their relationship.

0500 and all was well. Skull Three, also known as Frank Green, was patrolling the skies over Macross City, alongside Wraith Four, Carla Sarno. The sun was rising, spilling beautiful shades of the morning reds and yellows across the streets like a painter splashes color on canvas. All was going well, the enemy troops had withdrawn the night before, and the rain had passed, leaving a cooler atmosphere than the day before; even though the temperature was only in the 60's, it was hazy and humid for Alaska. The sun was distorting columns of air in the wasteland around the city, and that could confuse a pilot, making him see things that weren't there. So it wasn't at all surprising to Frank and Carla that they saw black shapes on the horizon. Their scanners couldn't confirm or deny what was out there, so Frank told Carla to stay in formation and he'd take a peek. He pointed his VT towards the rising sun and flew off to investigate. No sooner had he flown 100 meters from the city walls did he feel the impact of armor piercing discarding sabot (APDS) rounds in his cockpit, and see the rush of land come up beneath him.

Carla switched to Battloid mode, then ducked behind the nearest wall and radioed the bridge for assistance as she aimed her rifle over the ramparts.

Vanessa hated early morning shifts, but there wasn't really anything she could do about it; the service demanded it of her, and she decided to attempt and be cheery about it.

Then came the Klaxon, the most dreaded alarm clock ever devised by Mankind.

Vanessa shouted over the intercom, "All pilots, get up and to your posts. Air raid on the waterfront, a dozen bogies. We're under attack!"

Admiral Gloval ran onto the bridge, wiping the remnants of a cup of coffee off his bathrobe as he started scanning the tactical situation. Skull Three was dead, Wraith Four was a rookie, and it would take more than ten minutes to scramble even half a fighter squadron. He thought for a second, recalling their little electrical irregularity of the prior day, and ordered "Bring the Omni-Directional Barrier online immediately."

Vanessa scurried over to Claudia's station and manually started the generator sequence. The familiar whirring sounds of the energy buildup pounded at Henry's ears, as he was not sleeping well and had developed perpetual early-morning headaches. As Henry predicted, the electrical interference skewed the enemy VT's sensors, and they beat a hasty retreat. Vanessa looked at him with grateful eyes, and smiled.

Then, they felt the impact of plasma against their shields, as they saw an armored column approach from the over the water; hovertanks were assaulting the city. The barrier wouldn't protect them long, Henry knew. "All pilots, scramble; enemy mecha are on the city's waterfront. We need to stop them before they reach the power generator, or we lose the barrier. All Destroids, stop the tanks. Veritechs, destroy their support ships."

Rick sprinted across the tarmac towards Skull One and readied it for takeoff. Lisa sprinted by and took control of Rogue One, painted in black finish with red paneling. Rick did a double take, and tried to wave her off the flight line. Lisa radioed in, on the Squadron Leader channel, "Rick, we agreed to this a while back. I'm not going anywhere you're not going, and if we're under fire, we're facing it together."

Rick sighed. "True, Lisa. Sometimes I forget how much of a warrior you are. Just be careful, okay?"

"Agreed, Rick. Now let's get this show on the road!"

They took off side by side, a perfect imitation of Max and Miriya on the Line. They soared into the morning light, reached the apex of their climb, and spotted the floating attack tenders. Rick leveled out and threw his VT into Gerwalk mode, allowing him greater radius of fire with the rifle, and threw some cluster munitions at the repair ships. The assault tender took severe hits and caught fire as Rick assaulted it. Lisa, meanwhile, made a similar move towards the far tender, and she punched a huge hole in it's stern, causing it to take on water. A minigun started firing blindly into the air, and Lisa took some minimal damage to the left vertical rudder, causing her to shudder a little bit. She turned and aimed at the next tender, and let loose a barrage of air to ocean torpedos. The warheads found their way through to the inner hold of the assault carrier and detonated with a resounding roar.

Then, the second wave of VT's came in, twice as large as the first, and still the reserve squadrons of Wraith and Rogue weren't in the air. Rick looked over at Lisa, knowing that the situation wasn't the best, and seeing her worried look, reassured her, saying, "I love you, Lisa."

"I love you, too," she replied.

"Hey, guys, why not save the air and put some more lead downrange," came a voice over the intercom.

"Nice of you two to finally join the party, Max," Rick sighed.

"Sorry, guys, the coffee pot caught fire again," Miriya deadpanned.

"Yeah, well, we're catching fire out here," Lisa smirked, as she and Rick switched to Battloid mode and turned back-to-back, spraying covering fire in arcs around them. Max and Miriya formed up and made strafing runs at the four remaining assault carriers.

Down below, Rick spotted that the Destroid units had done their jobs, and the hovertanks were retreating, or, rather, attempting to retreat, but had no mode of transportation to leave on. Rick donated a volley of autocannon rounds toward the fleeing enemy, and wiped them out. Lisa, meanwhile, downed two enemy Veritech's and winged another three. They were about to, all four of them, return to engage the air armada amassed against them, when they enemy turned tail and ran. Lisa radioed to base, "Mission accomplished, Admiral, we're returning to base."

"Good shooting, Rogue One, over and out."

AN: Kind of in a strange mood lately…if this chapter seems a little off, forgive me. By the way, Lisa was able to pilot again cuz she has a very thick head. J


	12. Regrouping

Chapter XI 

"SDF-1 bridge to all Valkyrie squadrons, post sentries and return to the Prometheus," Vanessa radioed to all the pilots.

"Bridge, this is Skull Lead. Where the hell are our reinforcements," Rick asked.

"In a holding pattern somewhere over Vancouver," Vanessa radioed back.

"Damn airport security."

"Probably. Now get back here so we can analyze all of this."

A few minutes later, the squadrons touched down on the tarmac, and the pilots trudged to the locker room to stand down.

At 1100 that morning, in the conference room Admiral Gloval looked deeply into the eyes of the men and women surrounding the table. Few were smiling; a look of deep exhaustion filled their faces. Vanessa was fidgeting in her seat, still bleeding off the jitters from the early morning assault; Kim and Sammie were still vainly attempting to use their fingernails to brush their hair into some semblance of order. Claudia was propping her head up on her right forearm, struggling to remain awake. The pilots looked even worse, but they had thin, wan smiles on their faces, because they had survived a tough dogfight with little sleep. Henry inwardly grimaced, then looked over the outline for the meeting, which had numerous typos because he wrote it while nine-tenths asleep.

"Twenty-four hours ago, we received a communiqué from New Portland. They have begun to transport reinforcements and supplies to our base. However joyous that news is, there is some bad news to report, as well. One of the transport detachments, a flight of five choppers, went down in the plains of the Pacific Northwest. Five _Karnov _class transport helicopters went down on the outskirts of Mount St. Helens, Washington State, which is just over a klick from the Pacific Ocean. There is approximately thirty-five tons of equipment in that clearing, mostly ammunition and spare parts, and the ten crewmembers are cut off, low on rations and are surrounded by a rear-guard of 150 soldiers.

"We will send a relief force of one hundred Marines, commanded by Claudia, with Kim and Sammie as her two main subordinates. We'll airdrop you in via parachute as soon as the weather clears. Max and Miriya, you will take your top two pilots in and out of the airspace with Ferret cargo helicopters." The Ferret copters could only hold five tons of cargo each, and that meant they'd be flying multiple missions." "We've calculated it out to take twelve trips with these crafts, thus necessitating four trips each. The choppers will be flown in from the deck of the carrier _UEG Midway_, retrieve the cargo, drop it on the deck, and return to LZ Theta to get more cargo.

"Meantime, Claudia's group will be concerned with punching a hole through the forces surrounding the downed pilots. You defend and extract the pilots, then evade down the mountain towards LZ X-Ray. Your group will be supplied with standard demolitions packs and hand-held artillery, along with portable electronic interference generators. The fleet will stand by offshore to eliminate any air cover the attackers will have. We scramble at 1800, and it takes two hours to get to the site, which means we'll be there for 2000. Any further questions?"

Rick raised his hand. "I'd like to volunteer for this mission, sir."

"Request denied," Henry said. "You've been through more fighting in the past week and a half than the entire air wing combined. You and Captain Hayes are to stand down for this mission."

"But, Admiral!"

"No 'buts' about it," Gloval replied. "Stand down."

Rick's face lit up like a Christmas tree, but swallowed his pride and said, "Yes, Admiral."

"Good. Any questions, Claudia?"

"Yes, Admiral. What will we have to select from in terms of armaments, and why can't we send any VT fighters?"

"I consulted with Col. Slydell, and his thinking was that our mecha is too valuable to risk at this time," Henry replied. "We have a limited amount of spare parts and fuel and armaments, so we cannot afford to risk them, except in a decisive battle. I hate to agree, but he's right. With so much of our production capacity damaged, we can't replace what we lose as easily as we used to be able to. In addition, the terrain and atmosphere around the battle zone doesn't provide for optimal conditions for our VT's."

"I understand, sir. Thank you," Claudia replied.

"In response to your question on armaments, I'll leave that up to you, but I would advise that at least one quarter of your squads be heavy-weapons squads. Make them take advantage of the terrain and establish a firm defensive perimeter. Take care to watch out for snipers amongst the rocks."

"Aye, sir. We'll be prepared. Give the word to the Marine commanders that I want a 100-man group ready by 1500. Anything else?"

"As of now, you three ladies are to stand down from your duties. Get some rest, eat some food, and I expect a plan on my desk no later than 1600 tonight."

Sammie, Kim, and Claudia all rose, saluted, and exited the briefing room. Max and Miriya did the same after the ladies left, with Rick and Lisa following behind, leaving Gloval alone, deeply lost in his thoughts.


	13. Firestorm

Chapter XII 

The air in a cargo plane's carrying compartment is always cold, Claudia decided; no matter how many layers of clothing and thermals she could wear, it always got chilly right before a drop. For the umpteenth time, she triple checked her harness, her holsters, and the compartments where her equipment lay; maps, sensors, ammunition, rations, canteen, radio. All of it was arranged so she could find them by touch at a moment's notice.

She looked at her watch and then at Kim, who stood trembling beside her. "Look, honey, this is gonna be just fine. Relax and do exactly what I tell you, and you'll come back in one piece."

"Yes, Ma'am," she replied, nervously.

"Sammie, you girls know your jobs, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she said. "We drop at opposite ends of the DZ, and co-ordinate movements and perimeter by radio."

"Indeed. And what we do is this; we'll drop in a U-shaped formation in the rear of the enemy troops, advance forward, and then close up gradually and take them out from behind. Take care not to overshoot; we've got friendlies beyond the enemy position. Fire only when you've got a confirmed target lock."

The girls saluted, and Claudia turned to address the troops. "You all know your duty; I won't presume to tell it to you. This is a standard approach, encircle, and extract mission, so be careful. If you hear an order from either Lieutenant Young or Lieutenant Porter, you will obey it as surely as you would an order from me, is that understood?"

She saw them salute and nod as a group, so she continued. "Our goal is to make sure that the cargo gets retrieved, and to extract the pilots. I want our medics on standby as soon as we hit the ground; there may already be some casualties when we hit, and we need you ready to go as soon as possible. Treat the pilots as fast as you can, and have stretchers ready on standby. We drop in Z minus 30. Good luck, everyone."

The doors opened, and Claudia led the drop-chute parade out of the cargo plane's rear compartment. It had always been her philosophy that the men should land on the ground with an officer there to lead them; it would calm them, keep them steady, and make sure they could commit to the task at hand. Her XO would be a welcome addition, as well; Major Charles West was a career military officer, much like his father had been, and his grandfather before him. Still a youthful 30 years old, his sandy hair graying ever so slightly at the temples and the black patch covering his left eye were the only signs that he was anything but a young man in uniform. Well, his medals, too. His dress uniform, when he appeared in it on formal occasions, bespoke of nothing but stellar accomplishments in the ranks, with many citations for valor and courage standing rank-and-file on its left breast.

A fellow cadet of Claudia's, he was a well-rounded officer who knew how to get down in the dirt and fight like the Devil possessed him, an attribute that endeared him to the rank and file. He had the distinction of being the only officer on any side of the GCW to have earned his rank through field promotions that had started out as a mere cadet. It was unusual in that his promotions stuck; most of the brevetted commanders were demoted again after the conflict ended. He knew what infantry could and could not do, what machines were capable of and what their limits were. Thus, it was Charlie West, her old friend from the cadet corps, which Claudia turned to for advice and to be her XO for the mission at hand.

The wind was soft and steady, but not harsh enough to smash 'chutes and send the force hither and yon. She used her headset scanner to gauge the enemy's position, and she saw that her force was coming down on the outskirts of a cluster of vacationer's cabins. They had approximately one-half mile between themselves and the enemy encircling the cargo pilots. Charlie suggested landing behind the cluster, then using the cabins as shelter as the force advanced. She agreed, but didn't want to be the one who had to repay the people who had timeshares there.

She landed, as planned, smack dab in the middle of the line, which spread one hundred yards in each direction. Charlie landed next to her, with Kim anchoring the left flank and Sammie the right. "Squad leaders, advance in leapfrog formation. Even numbers, on the bounce…NOW!"

The advance became a game of leapfrog, with the even numbers rushing forward a predetermined number of paces, then the odd numbers making up the ground they lost and advancing an equal amount of territory forward. They advanced in such fashion for a while, until Claudia got a frantic hiss from Kim over her headset. "Bo Peep to Mother Goose, come in Mother Goose, over."

"Bo Peep, this is Mother Goose, what's the situation, honey?"

"Several big, bad wolves coming upon my foremost skirmishers, we've spotted a few hornets and a viper pit. Over."

'Hornets' was slang for machine guns, and 'viper pit' for a mortar emplacement. It seemed odd to Claudia that Howe would send such an assortment of weaponry to surround and capture ten pilots and their crews, plus the cargo inside. "Any signs of trolls in the area?"

"Nothing, Mother Goose…"

"Come in, Mother Goose, this is Mairzy Doats."

"And dozey doats," Kim added dryly.

"Oh, be quiet, Bo Peep. We've got several wolves headed in our direction, with orders to seek and kill…." The sound of an assault rifle opened up. "We are engaging. Repeat, Mother Goose, we are engaging. Thirty wolves, against my thirty men."

"Mother Goose to Bo Peep and Mairzy Doats. Engage wolves at point-blank range, repeat, engage at point blank range. Leave nothing to chance, and be careful for your mates on either side of you."

As those words escaped her lips, a horrific thunder came charging out of the forest surrounding them, one that terrified them and shocked them into inaction. Claudia looked to her left, and a large IFV (Infantry Fighting Vehicle) came out of the foliage. It had thick armor, eight turret-mounted machine guns, and flamers fore and aft. "Cooper, I need a TOW up here, right now!"

A Marine appeared at her left side, targeted the vehicle with his missile, and let it fly. The IFV had no chance; it was discharging all eight guns at once, but managed to miss the incoming projectile, which nailed it amidships and left a large crater on the forest floor.

"I need a status report," Claudia was screaming through the din. She saw Charlie lead a cluster of troops forward, in the direction that the vehicle had come from, and she shuddered. "Bo Peep, Mairzy, what's going on?"

"Bo Peep here; we captured their hornets and turned them against the former occupants. The viper pit is harder to get at; we've lost five men trying to gain it. Watch out, this viper spits real good."

Even as Kim radioed her warning, Claudia heard the whistle of an incoming round. "Hit the deck!" she screamed, diving for cover among the downed trees and debris littering the forest floor.

"Mairzy reporting in," Sammie was saying. "The fighting here seems to be over; we captured a few prisoners, and they're saying we're engaged with a larger force than we previously thought."

"How much larger?"

"Mother Goose, we seem to have hit giant's castle. Over."

Claudia stuttered. That meant they had hit the rebel stronghold, the main headquarters. So, all she had to throw against the combined might of Maistroff and Howe, were her seventy warriors, versus their 20,000, not counting on the mecha and artillery they could mount against her. "Mother Goose calling Bird Dog, come in, please, over."

"Bird dog here, Mother Goose. Over."

"We've found the giant's castle, Bird Dog. What Shall we do next?"

"I'm in position to climb the beanstalk, Mother Goose. Give the word, and we can steal the Giant's gold."

"Negative, Bird Dog. We need to radio for help before we try that. Stay in the dog house, we'll try again later."

She hit the all-hands frequency. "All troops, stand your ground, take defensive measures. Set your Claymores, post sentries. We're calling Mama Bird for help on this one."

AN: If there's anyone out there still reading this after all this time, I thank you. I wrote myself into a hole with the situation I gave before I revised my previous chapter, and hence, I had massive writer's block. As a side note, for those watching the box scores, I have a direct nod here to the battle of Ia Drang from Vietnam, as depicted in the movie, "We Were Soldiers". I hope to have this saga concluded fairly soon, as I have been dragging my feet for far too long over this. Again, R/R, please, and tell me what you hope to see happening soon.


	14. Reflections in a Cloud of Smoke

Chapter XIII 

Henry Gloval sat back in his plush leather chair, one that was one of the few hand-me-downs in his family that had survived the revolutions and counter-revolutions that Russia was world-famous for. He looked into the bowl of his favorite pipe, an elegant affair carved from the horn of a deer and adorned with intricate scrollwork, then stained with walnut to give the appearance of antiquing, cautiously lit the match, took a long, deep pull on the pipe, and went into deep thought, letting the smoke fill his nose, throat, and mouth with acrid smoke.

This was no global confrontation they were fighting, he realized; it was a renegade faction of RDF personnel led by a man who had a personal disagreement with Henry over tactics and treatment of the Zentraedi. Henry had heard of no other uprisings across the world; in fact, Calcutta, Moscow, Beijing, and Tokyo were all silent, attending to business as usual. Henry sighed. He _could_ call on them for reinforcements, but what need? This was, above all else, personal between Henry Gloval and Vaclav Maistroff; when two brothers fight, that was one thing, and if an outsider got involved, then the two brothers would gang up on the interloper. And, in many ways, before the rift happened, they were almost brothers, in spirit if not by blood.

Henry chewed lightly on the stem of his pipe. It was one thing for a man to revenge himself upon another man for a perceived slight, but it was quite another for him to stage the drama on such a grand scale where so many lives were lost. His thoughts traveled back to the day when The Visitor, as the SDF-1 was called, and landed on Macross Island.

Sylvia Maistroff and her children, Pyotr and Susan, were his pride and joy; Henry had fought against and alongside Vaclav often enough to establish a good respect for the family man who was fighting to make the world safer for his wife and kids. Henry had never met the Maistroff clan, but he knew they had to have been wonderful, from the way Vaclav's stories were told on the long nights in camp while they waited for the snow to stop falling, and for the food to cook. Russian winters were very cold, indeed, and a small eternity in the frigid temperatures would usually pass before your morning coffee could boil.

Although Donald Hayes was the commander of the international examination committee that inspected "the Visitor," Henry was appointed his second in command, and was chiefly responsible for selecting key personnel. Roy Fokker and Emile Lang were a given, as both were highly respected in their fields; Fokker for his piloting prowess, was there as an expert in piloting and navigational matters, and Lang was known for his expertise in energy fields, propulsion, and electrical engineering.

But Henry needed a secret group of advisors whom he could plan tactics with, men who he'd fought against and alongside often, and whose advice and wisdom he could trust. So he asked Admiral Hayes for his permission to form the Tactical Doctrine Council, comprised of Admiral Hayes, himself, Maistroff, Carruthers, Reinhart, and two others whose names escaped him formed the original TDC. Fokker joined later, upon the creation of the Valkyrie Air/Space Forces, to add depth to the tactical plannings.

Henry grimaced as he recalled the day he contacted Maistroff about joining the TDC…

Flashback 

The sun was shining, but the young-ish colonel wasn't smiling or enjoying the sunlight; he had a bottle of Scotch in his right fist, his service pistol loaded in his left, and a dark, brooding look in his eyes. Henry stood a few paces to Vaclav's left, unsure how to proceed. "Vaclav, are you alright?"

"Henry," he said, choking back a sob, "what am I going to do now that my family is gone?"

Henry gasped, taken aback in sympathy. "Vaclav, that's horrible; what happened?"

"The Visitor impacted right into the side of our apartment building. By the time the fire crew got to the building, there was nothing left to save; everyone inside was dead."

Henry glanced down at the gun in Vaclav's hand. "Put the gun down, Vaclav, and I'll help you get through it."

"What is there to get to, Henry? If I get past all this, even if I survive these feelings, what do I live for? Sylvia, Pyotr, and Susan were more than just my wife and children, they were my very life itself. I just want to see my wife again," he finished dejectedly, slowly gripping the pistol more tightly in his left hand.

Henry eyed the pistol in his friend's hand with unease. "There are other methods of easing your pain, my friend. You can't just end it all like this."

Maistroff suddenly snarled and aimed the pistol, two-handed, at Henry. "Stay back, Henry. I wanna see my wife again, and you're not going to stop me."

Henry put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "I'm not your enemy, Vaclav, I'm your friend. I'm a friend who's been through a lot with you, who knows you and bleeds for you when you bleed, because we've been through it all together. I know how it feels to lose your wife that way; I've told you about Irina before. Just put down the gun and I'll help you find a way to move past your grief."

Vaclav made no effort to lower the gun, so Henry lunged at him, grabbing the barrel and shoving it at the ground. Vaclav collapsed in his friend's arms, sobbing from fatigue, both physical and mental.

End Flashback 

Henry got Maistroff to a field hospital, where he spent a few weeks under the care of a bevy of head shrinkers. As soon as the medics certified Maistroff as fit to return to duty, Henry and Donald both approved his application to the TDC. All the collective insight from the experienced commanders, and the reports and insight provided from their outside experts, couldn't prepare them for the reality they would face when the Zentraedi fleet arrived overhead. And then, he started working with his current crew, who all formed a loving, tight-knit, if slightly dysfunctional family.

Henry sighed softly, then swore as the intercom buzzed. "Yes?"

"Sorry to interrupt, Admiral Gloval, but we've got an incoming message from Commander Grant, sir."

"Put it up, Vanessa," he ordered.

The intercom screen went up. "Admiral, we have news to report."

"What is that, Commander?"

"Max and the helicopters were able to rescue the cargo, but we've got bad news, as well; we've landed outside their base camp," she replied, and lurched suddenly as if she was struck by something.

"How do you know it's their base camp?"

"Because, well, we've been surrounded and taken prisoner by Col. Howe, himself, Sir, and moved inside the mountain. Unless you surrender by midnight, they're going to execute Kim, Sammie, and I." The screen then went blank, leaving Henry speechless and uncertain what to do.

AN: Sorry for the delay; I hope you enjoy the chapter. And the tale won't be too much longer, so bear with me for one or two more chapters.


	15. The Turning of the Wheel

Chapter XIV 

Three seconds later, Henry Gloval, the admiral, sprang into action, striding out onto the bridge with confidence. "Communications, patch me through to the _E.S.S. Enterprise_ and ask their ETA at St. Helens. I also want a full report from Max Sterling. Engineering, get me a status report on our structural integrity, all ship's systems. Tactical, start putting your people on full weapons drills, and I want a squadron of VT's in the air around the clock. Vanessa, Rick, Lisa, my office, now."

Everyone jumped into action, as Vanessa's second took over at communications, Lisa's subordinate started the tactical procedures, and the Engineering officer started compiling reports. Admiral Gloval marched the trio into his office and shut the door.

"All right, it's bad. They're captured and held hostage, and Maistroff and Howe want our surrender in exchange for their lives," he stated bluntly. "Obviously, surrender is out of the question, so I want options from you three."

Rick asked, "What's the tactical on their base?"

"We won't have firm, reliable data until we hear from Max and Miriya, but their base is located underneath the Mount Saint Helens volcano, with a mile or two of rock as surface armor, and a miniaturized Omni-Directional Barrier as added shielding," Gloval stated, as the desktop computer beeped.

He looked up quickly. "Telemetry from the _Midway_," he replied to their questioning glances. "Seems that the defenses are a little more formidable than we thought. The base is ringed with Surface-Air missile launchers, and they have a division of Destroids to back up the infantry onsite. Their VT compliment is light, but the pilots are expert; Commander Fokker trained most of them during the GCW. Their kill/death ratio is better than even the Skulls. And that's just surface defenses.

"Inside, the base appears to be a labyrinth, and the prison is five levels below the Earth's surface. It's guarded, it appears, by a squad of 5 soldiers. Now, how do we rescue them and end this whole thing?"

Vanessa raised her hand. "Just get me to the _Midway_, sir. I'll link up with Max and Miriya and we'll plan this out."

"_You_, Vanessa," Henry asked with quite some shock.

"Kim and Sammie are my cadre mates, Admiral, almost younger sisters to me, and Claudia, well, she's like our mother. I feel useless just sitting here, waiting for the rescue mission. I want to be in on this one, you've held me on ship for the past few missions."

Henry sat back, thinking, for a moment or two. "You're right. Suit up, grab your gear, and link up with Max and Miriya. Whatever happens, I want you to be careful."

Vanessa stood at her full height and saluted crisply. Henry returned the salute in a similar fashion, getting a strange sensation of nostalgia in his stomach, almost as if… _Stop it, Henry, it's too early to entertain those thoughts._

The intercom buzzed, and Rick swatted it on. "Admiral Gloval, it's Max Sterling reporting in."

"Give your report, Captain," Henry replied.

"All cargo has been retrieved, sir, but we lost most of the ground force in the battle. Also, they've split their forces up; Maistroff is taking half of his forces towards New Macross, and leaving a rear guard to hold the fort."

"Understood. We're sending down an operative to assist you with the rescue/retrieval mission. Our officers are top priority."

"Understood; I have Miriya making contingency plans with the SEALs as we speak. We'll get your bridge crew back, sir," Max reported.

"I am counting on you, Max," Henry replied. "Good luck, over and out."

Henry leaned back, steeped his fingers, and looked through his hands at Rick and Lisa, who were both staring at the desktop trying to think strategy. "So we have a problem," he said simply, as he stood and began to pace. "Ten thousand soldiers, potentially, headed our way, and what kind of a defense do we have to counter it?"

"Well, we have about ten miles of anti-mech trenches, a couple hundred thousand mines, an Omni-Directional Barrier, eight thousand infantry, and five squadrons of VT fighters, plus an additional half-company of Destroids," Lisa scanned the disposition sheet before her. "And the New Macross Citizen's Militia, which formed mostly as a way of protesting how Maistroff was treating the Zentraedi, and who apparently tried to retake the streets before we liberated the city."

"Irregulars," Henry grunted, half in admiration and half in frustration, having organized and led similar outfits in the GCW. "How many of them are there?"

"Every able-bodied man in New Macross between the ages of 18 and 45, so that's about…five thousand or so extra hands."

"Can they be counted on not to run under fire," Rick asked.

"I'm not sure, but we have less than six hours to find out," Admiral Gloval remarked. "I'll talk with their commander. What's his name, Lisa?"

"Battalion Commander Krantz, sir."

"Have him meet me in my office in an hour. We'll have things to discuss."

"Aye, sir."

_Almost like my first ship's posting,_ Vanessa thought, full of nostalgia mixed with anxiety for the immediate future. The smell of salty sea spray and the fall of heavy rain on the flight deck of the _Midway, _and she squinted her eyes against the stinging rain. Bringing the lapels of her peacoat closer to her, she stepped gingerly out of the helicopter, saluted the pilot in thanks, and walked towards the command tower.

"Good to see you again, Vanessa," Max remarked, saluting her as she entered the bridge.

"And you as well, Captain Sterling," Vanessa replied, then grinned. "How are you, Max? It's been a rough few days."

"Assuming nothing else goes wrong, we're okay," he replied, grinning as well. "So what brings you out this way? Admiral Gloval only said that he was sending an operative to help retrieve the captives."

"You're looking at her," Vanessa saluted.

Max stood still, glued in place, his eyes wide with shock. "You volunteered to go in there and get them out?"

"Yes, Max. It may come as a shock, but we're not completely helpless up there on the bridge crew. We _do_ know how to handle weapons, and we are familiar with tactics, you know. We just don't get out in the field much. But drastic times call for drastic measures," she remarked with a confident smirk.

Max recovered smartly, offered his arm, and replied, "Well, then, looks like you, Miriya, and I have a little bit of planning to do."

"Indeed, we do," she smiled, playfully linking her arm in his.

AN: We're getting closer to the end of the saga, and I'm glad that people have waited patiently with me thus far. Please hang in there; I promise an angsty and emotional finale, though it may become two chapters as opposed to one.


	16. Fatal Toccata and Fugue in Csharp

Chapter XV 

The skies around New Macross City dimmed and darkened with clouds, heavy with chilly rain. Loud hums filled the ears of anyone who happened to walk past the _Prometheus _as technicians performed maintenance checks on the armored vehicles, VT's, and Destroids that would see use that day. Infantry commanders did last minute checks on every member of every squad, making sure that every soldier carried a full weapons load and was in good health.

Meanwhile, Rick and Lisa were going over last minute plans in the Ops Center, placing reserves and units in position around the city, and trying desperately not to worry about their friends in the field. Admiral Gloval stepped in on occasion, but preferred to let his trusted subordinates finalize a plan and then get his approval.

They decided to break the city down into quadrants around the SDF-1, and deploy forces accordingly. Rick positioned half of his VT squads in Quadrant One, which held city hall, the shipyards, and the waterfront, and the other half in Quadrant Four, which held the hospital, the generator, an oil refinery, and the auxiliary airfield. It was decided that halving the squadrons was better than dividing them into four groups because it wouldn't leave any single group understrength, and they could shift fighters as needed during the battle as opposed to spreading them too thin. In addition, it assisted the Anti-Aircraft batteries in cutting down the often-overwhelming swarm of data and choosing their targets more accurately by only having one field of fire to concentrate on.

Lisa was coordinating the ground forces, and hers was a massive task, indeed. She was split between the idea of forcing a battle on the waterfront, where it would be possible to disrupt the attacker's formation, and allowing them to advance closer to the city center and attacking them guerilla style through New Macross City, to take advantage of the SDF-1's ship-mounted batteries. She realized that Maistroff wasn't stupid enough to drop all his forces outside the city and into the paths of their guns; he'd more than likely perform aerial bombardment and an airborne drop, so she split the Destroids in half; most of the Tomahawks were stationed around the waterfront, and Spartans were positioned around strategic intersections in the city proper, with three infantry squads to support them.

The remaining infantry was positioned at a beachhead on the harbor; makeshift defenses (primarily barricades of armored personnel carriers) were constructed so that any landing would receive the maximum damage, but still give the defenders adequate possibilities to maneuver if the beachhead failed. Every fifth platoon of infantry was reinforced with _Phalanx­_-class Destroid units that had been retrofitted with cluster bombs and anti-personnel rockets, to attempt to slow down the enemy advance into the heart of New Macross. To top it all off, she had battle tanks and armored rocket launchers on the sides of the battle line, to exploit any gaps in the enemy formation, run interference on any gaps in their own line, and generally create havoc for the enemy.

Late in the day, as she radioed the last movement order to the last unit commander, the radar officer shouted, "Captain Hayes, we have four squadrons of bombers inbound, five o'clock!"

"Red alert, all hands to battle stations, and engage the anti-air defenses," Lisa ordered. "All pilots, scramble. I want those bombers dead yesterday."

"_Skull squadron, take off, meet me at Blue Angels Six. Rogues and Wraiths, follow and engage from Tango Alpha Three._"

"Bridge to Skull Leader, come in," Lisa called out.

"_Bridge, this is Skull Leader. Is that you, Lisa?_"

"Yeah, it's me. I just wanted to tell you to be careful out there, and to come back safe."

"_I will, Lisa; thanks. Remember, I love you._"

"And I love you, Rick. Good shooting up there," she finished, and cut the transmission.

Admiral Gloval came on the bridge, shouting for status reports and tactical updates. He looked at one screen and saw a breeching pod headed towards Main Engineering…

It was nightfall along the base of Mount Saint-Helens, and the sentries were out in force. Beams from search lights on hovering patrol craft swept the perimeter of Maistroff's rebel base. One black-clad figure crouched low in the mud under the high grass nearby, looking for a gap in the security perimeter, and, once it was found, to signal her accomplice to her side and exploit it.

The perimeter gap, which lay between two converging searchlight patterns, was barely a yard wide, but it ran for five or six yards towards the base of the volcano. On signal from the lead figure, they both raced towards the rocks ahead, barely making it before the lights converged again. The second figure handed the first figure a small device with a large digital face, ticking off seconds one after the other, then, drawing her sidearm, covered her as they set it against the side of the mountain. Once it was set, they waited for the searchlights to part on their predictable pattern to run the six yards back into the tall grass.

Moments later, an earsplitting explosion echoed across the mountainside, ringing the base and its outlying fortifications in a storm of white phosphorous flame and subsequent smoke and light. The base opened up its infantry bay doors to let out a search party, and the twin intruders took full advantage of the opportunity, racing inside and ducking behind the doorway, shedding their muddy clothing in favor of a duty uniform under each black outfit.

"Is this your first time in the field," Miriya asked her companion.

"First time in a long time," Vanessa replied, making sure her MOG was well within easy reach, should it be needed.

"Okay," her companion said, indicating that they needed to hurry, "I'm going to head towards their command and control center and try to disrupt things from there for you; you get to the prison level and get them free."

"Will do. Where do we meet up again when we get out?"

"There's a gully just beyond the grass on the northern edge of the perimeter. We'll meet there and escape," Miriya said.

"Good idea," Vanessa agreed, moving gently towards the elevator door.

Rick swore as he dove sharply, narrowly avoiding a barrage of bullets from the bandit behind him. The dogfight was getting hot, and most of the pilots he led were rookies, with less than 100 hours flight time. Hawkeye squadron suffered 35 casualties in the opening air strike, and was struggling in the air to reform; with the squadron leader, Billy Byrd, and his XO dead, flight leaders were taking turns trying to form them up, but they were losing too many men.

Rick looked at his tactical screen, and saw that his air forces were being forced back over the city, towards a central point, and that the enemy was sending reinforcements. The bombers, at least, had been dispatched, but they were outnumbered five to one in terms of aircraft. He told his pilots to switch to Battloid mode and take to the streets for now, till they could regain the advantage.

Touching down in the city center, he scanned the avenues of approach. The civilians were running like scared sheep towards the SDF-1, which had opened emergency shelters in the lower levels to protect them during the battle. Howe led an enemy element of one hundred men on a diversionary raid towards the SDF-1 while the rest of his forces tied down the SDF-1 troops at the beachhead. The NMCM, however, was doing its best to delay the advance of enemy troops towards the city center, using exploding cars, barricades, boobytraps, rocket launchers, and the like to destroy armored vehicles and troop formations, but the sheer skill of the incoming infantry was overwhelming the half-trained citizen soldiers. The red alert siren went off in Rick's cockpit, signaling enemy mechs headed his direction. He looked up in horror to see the gleaming blades of enemy Hatchetmen headed towards the civilians. Some of the hatchets were already dripping with fresh blood…

AN: Just a teaser, but I hope you like. The battle will take some time (and many rolls of the dice) to resolve, but the fun hasn't begun yet. Note: there will be character injuries, possible deaths coming up, so hold on to your hat and coat, it's gonna get fun.


	17. Crescendo fortissimo

Chapter XVI 

Vanessa tried to keep her nerves under control as she walked through the enemy base. Personnel everywhere were aggressively attending to their duties, from security details to engineers to pilots, and she wasn't entirely certain that her disguise would escape scrutiny. For the insertion, she had dyed her hair flame red, inserted contacts that turned her eyes green, and had applied makeup to make her skin appear even more pale than normal, suggesting that the light from her monitors was the only source of light she typically got. She fidgeted, worried that the makeup would flake off, or her facial features would give her away, but the people around her didn't give her a second look as they rushed past.

The layout of the base was standardized, like ones she'd seen countless other times in her career, on other bases, and she could follow the layout easily enough. She entered the lift and descended towards the prison level…

Lisa ran towards the engineer's station, where Dr. Lang and his crew were holed up during the battle. She gripped the CQB pistol in her hand, a curious combination of side-by-side snub-barreled shotgun chambered in 10 gauge, with a Bowie knife mounted underneath it; it was especially useful in boarding party raids and close-confines combat.

She just never thought she'd be using it against her own comrades.

She could see the fusion torches cutting through the wall, saw the bayonets of the soldiers behind the engineers. She knew what their orders were as soon as she saw the blades; kill all who stand in their way and take the ship by force. "Aim well on your first shots, then fire at will," she ordered. "Cut 'em off here, and we won't have to worry about retaking the rest of the ship later."

Any reply from her few dozen troops was muted by the wall falling in, and the sound of gunfire. The six guards closest to the wall went down in rapid fashion, as Lisa aimed and fired, catching two enemy soldiers full in the face with her scattergun. The soldiers in the room were evenly matched, man for man, so numerical superiority wasn't going to be a factor.

It was an old-fashioned killing field, a barroom brawl mixed with more rifle fire and bayonets than an Old West saloon, and the defenders were hanging on for their lives. Lisa raised her gun and fired again, catching another man in the back, and then swung her blade around to connect with a man's midsection. Her attacker stumbled back, bleeding profusely from a deep stab to his stomach. A few errant shots whizzed her way, so she withdrew her blade from her victim to face the new onslaught…

Miriya realized that she had the most recognized face of the group as she entered the enemy base, so she tended to stick to the shadows as she crawled along. She also caused a few of the electricity generators to malfunction, adding to the gloom and the reduced searchlights in the hallways, and planted several timed charges along the way, in service conduits.

The first patrol that she heard in the area started coming her way; she ducked into an open ventilation grating, and they walked past her, not noticing her. Putting her last timed charge in place, she slipped into the shaft and crawled forward towards the light she saw ahead of her. Voices came out of the darkness, so she slowed to listen to them.

"The second wave is almost ready, Colonel Howe," came an unknown voice.

"Excellent work, Captain Preston, carry on. Launch the first group at your leisure," Howe replied.

"Aye, Colonel."

"Those extra mechs in the second wave ought to really help soften up the SDF-1 defenders," Major Patton remarked.

"The Annihilator will be extremely effective," Howe confirmed.

Miriya listened in horror as they talked about how they had planned to surprise and destroy the SDF-1's defenders. Unfortunately, she let out a gasp when they started discussing the other mecha they were sending along.

"What's that noise? Find that intruder," snapped Howe.

Miriya stumbled over herself trying to scramble out of the air duct, making a lot of noise. The soldiers Howe had in his command room fired at her duct, striking her in the lower back and her left hip. She was swiftly located and brought before Howe, who strapped her to a chair for interrogation…

Admiral Gloval noticed the swarms of hatchet-wielding mechs headed towards the civilian shelters. "Tactical, raise the Omni-Directional Barrier, narrow-beam focus. I want those civilians protected."

"Aye, Admiral. The barrier is up, and the enemy tanks have swept around our left flank to strafe at the air defenses. Our tanks are counter-attacking, but are having minimal gains."

Gloval looked at the young combat controller, she was scared whiter than a sheet. "Order Rogue Squadron to lend assistance to the tank column, and have the Wraiths cover the civilians. Get me Skull Leader on the comm."

"_Skull One to bridge, I copy._"

"The enemy formation is headed your way from Grid Two. Set up defensive firepower and overwhelm them."

"_Roger that, bridge. Skulls two through five plus eight, regroup and concentrate fire on those tanks. Six, Seven, form on me; we're mech hunting. The rest of you, concentrate on their support units._"

Gloval saw the groups split to their particular tasks, and noticed with interest that the enemy ranks were falling back towards the shore positions. The enemy infantry seemed lost in confusion, making several vain assaults on the Omni-Directional barrier without any coordinated strategy, suffering nearly a dozen men from ricocheted shots with each fusillade, then withdrawing in disorder. He was pleased that they held the line thus far, but he knew it wasn't over yet.

Rick and his squadmates were in cover behind a three-story brick building, hiding from heavy enemy fire. They had taken the point for the counter-offensive, but that left them outside the barrier. Three Hatchetmen were headed their way, each with rotary autocannons and three pulse lasers, not to mention their heavy cleavers on their right arms. Rick aimed his rifle very carefully at the cockpit of the lead butcher, sighting in with his zoomed scope, and loosed two rounds at his target.

The first shot slammed into the butcher's left torso, but the second one was dead on, cracking the cockpit glass and giving the opposing pilot a severe concussion. The mech stumbled, hit a twin-story brick building, and hit the ground, taking down some debris to block the path of his squadmates. The two mechs behind the leader tried engaging their jump jets to clear the obstacle, but they hit each other in the attempt, one falling head-first into an exposed beam, and the other landing on his backside. The one that landed on his head cracked apart at the seams, and Rick finished it off with another shot to the head, killing it. The third mech landed on his right rear, setting off an ammo explosion, shearing its right arm off. The ammunition explosion brought down the rest of the building on the lead mech in the element, crushing his right side.

In this case, one shot, indeed, made the difference in the battle.

Author's note: It's getting to the end of the line, folks; I never meant to drag it out as long as I did, but thanks for holding tight for the ride. Read and review, as always. J


	18. Saber Dance

_**Chapter XVII**_

Vanessa counted in her head, knowing that the charges Miriya had set would only give them a maximum of ten minutes to exit the base. The prison cell was just barely fifty feet down the hall, around the corner from where she stood, and there were three guards standing in front of it, one on either side of the door, and one at the monitoring station next to it. Suddenly, she heard an intruder alert posted for the command section. She figured Miriya had to have been found by then.

Vanessa pulled the pin on a flashbang grenade, rolled it down the hallway, and grabbed her FMG for action. The explosion blinded the guards, and she charged around the corner firing wildly, striking the two exposed guards in the groin. The one monitoring the computers ran around the corner, firing his pistol wildly. Two of his three shots went wild, but the third struck Vanessa in her right thigh, hobbling her. She fired a final burst, catching the man full in the chest, dropping him for the count.

As the guard's body hit the deck, she ran forward at as close to full tilt as she could manage, grabbing the keys to the cell. She fumbled them in her anxiety, finally managing to get the door open on the third attempt.

* * *

Lisa's troops finally herded the invaders back into the Engine Room, after they broke out briefly into the hallway. A handful even managed to get to the elevator, only to be greeted with gunfire from reinforcements arriving on the scene of battle. She looked around the room, greatly aware of the spatters of blood everywhere, and surveyed the damage. Several consoles were toppled, loose wires spraying sparks every which way, and the wall was still collapsed over one of her dead soldiers. 

One of the junior officers, a Sergeant O'Leary by his nameplate, walked over to the main reactor, gazing intently on a small black box that wasn't there previously. "Captain Hayes, Ma'am, I think we have a bomb on this thing."

* * *

"All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel-" Miriya sang, half deluded by pain, fully aware of the hand that was in full swing to smack her again. 

Her cheek turned bright red from another huge welt as her tormentor slapped her across the face. Her left eye was swollen shut, a victim of merciless torment to her body. She felt barely alive, awash in sea of pain; in addition to facial abrasions, she had a broken arm, a broken leg, and a few fractured ribs. "How many are with you? How did you get in here?"

She smiled calmly, spitting blood from between her broken teeth and jaw, and ground out, "Miriya Parino Sterling, Captain, 046812603."

"You're very impressive, alien scum. Most of my guests here cannot endure five seconds of my hospitality, not to mention five minutes. Now, tell me, who did you bring with you?"

Miriya looked at the man curiously, like he was artwork she couldn't fathom. "Miriya Parino Ster-,"

"Insolent bitch," cried the interrogator, hauling back and punching her, full fist, in the face. "You've got nothing to gain from stalling. We're searching for your allies as I speak. So, in the end, you will all die together. Your body will be just that much bloodier when you end up there."

Miriya coughed up a lungful of blood, spraying it all over the interrogator's jacket. She couldn't see much beyond him, her vision was hazy, and the room was starting to swirl. If only she could remain focused-

_Maximillian, my love, forgive me._

* * *

Claudia struggled mightily to stand up, but ended up needing Kim and Sammie to lend her a hand. They were all overjoyed to see Vanessa again, and she had to quiet the younger ones down to get them moving again. 

Vanessa's first step was to scrounge the dead soldiers for weapons. The girls removed Beryl rifles, three clips of ammunition each, and a MOG, with one clip of normal rounds, one clip of exploding rounds, and one clip of netting rounds each. They pocketed each clip around their bodies, and, once they made sure that they hadn't missed anything, the newly freed captives entered the elevator back to the surface. Vanessa hung behind just long enough to plant a timed charge in the cell, and another one at the computer post that the third guard had been at. Then, they took the elevator back to the entry point.

* * *

Lisa's blood ran cold when she heard the sergeant's voice. She dropped everything else she was doing, and took charge of the situation. 

"Any Demolitions experts in here," she called out. One or two raised hands appeared in the crowd. "Good, step forward, we need you. Everyone else, get out of here and seal the door."

The two explosives experts came to the front, and the rest retreated as ordered. "So, can you stop this thing," Lisa asked them.

"Nobody breathe, nobody move, and it ought to be simple," came one specialists' voice. "This thing is movement-sensitive, heat-igniting, and highly potent. In other words, if we rip it off, it goes off, if the reactor warms up above a certain temperature, it goes off, and no matter where we are standing, if we're anywhere near it, we're history."

The second specialist scanned the surface of the bomb, probing with his eyes for any points of entry. "Looks like we'll have to bombard this thing with X-rays to get it neutralized."

The first tech grabbed an X-ray sensor and started at the control panel on the lower edge of the device. He flicked the scanner on the lowest setting and started a systematic, line-by-line sweep of the device. The green light flickered, then beeped steadily as it worked its magic on the destructive device.

Lisa sweated nervously as she watched the technicians work. She mentally reviewed everything in her life, from childhood to adulthood and everything in between. She could see the sweat forming on the brows of the technicians as they attempted to defuse it, knowing that their thoughts, if they failed, were likely along similar lines…

* * *

"Now, are you going to play ball, or are you going to resist," asked the interrogator, flexing his fist, as she stopped coughing. She nodded her compliance as he cackled with glee. 

"Now, again, how many people came with you?"

"One," she answered, shifting her body so her ribcage wouldn't hurt as badly as it did.

"Where did they go to? Where are they now, to save you from your pathetic failure?"

Miriya looked at the man, so bland, so uninteresting, so utterly inconsequential, and, grinning through bloody teeth, spat out, "Go to hell."

The man didn't grin, he didn't flinch. He didn't react emotionally. He just looked at her thoughtfully, and remarked, "You can't hold out forever, you know."

"I don't need to," she countered. "I just need to hold out a few more minutes."

The man's look of superiority slipped, and he felt pangs of alarm. "What does that mean?"

She looked at him through pain filled eyes, as the explosives started going off. She cackled at her tormentor, "You'll find out soon enough."

The man grabbed at her throat, starting to strangle her into submission. She gagged a bit, then stopped struggling and accepted her fate calmly; losing herself in memories of happier times, better places, she relaxed, embracing the coming transition. She felt her tormentor snap her neck, with the sound of explosions filling her ears and brain.

As she died, her final thought was, "_I love you, Max._"

AN: Sorry I got so morbidly cruel in this chapter…I just wanted to prove that, in war, it's not all neat and clean, that rules are often broken, that there is suffering and death. Usually, in Robotech, the main characters don't end up bloodied or dirty or anything; they walk through hell and back and they never get their uniform jackets dirty. That isn't always the case. And I needed a sacrifice that hit close to home, and, I'm sorry, Miriya just happened to volunteer in my mind for the role. But the story isn't over yet. Hang on, I'll get you through to the end. I can't promise anything about further drastic events, however.


	19. Percussion and trumpets

Chapter XVIII 

When Claudia woke up, she saw her comrades in a heap on the ground. There was a dome of rocks above them, a few large ones, a few small ones, which had fallen around all four of them during the explosion of the enemy base. Here eyes focused on a few arms and legs that moved in vain, just to see if they could be moved. The caved-in area couldn't have had much more room than the four of them laid in a two by two grid, and wasn't exceedingly high, either. She rather expected to hit her head if she sat up suddenly, so she made no sudden moves. Instead, she whispered ahead, "Vanessa?"

"I know, it's claustrophobic in here, and I'm working on a way out."

Vanessa punched at one of the rocks above her head, and, luckily, it was lightly draped over the opening. She moved a few other rocks, enough to stand up, and then aided the others out of the rock pile. The searchlights were still on in a few locations, one directly over them, so they hobbled as best they could towards the tree line, to regain the safety of the shadows.

"Is your radio still working," Kim asked.

"I'll try it," Vanessa replied. Lifting the radio to her lips, she whispered, "Talon Two to Talon One, do you read me?"

No response came, only a hiss and cackle of static. "Talon One, please come in!"

"_There's no response from Talon One, and her beacon's gone,_" came a voice in reply.

"Is that you, Max?"

"_The one and only,_" he said, rather wearily. "_I'm coming out there with a squad to pick you girls up. Hang tight_."

"Not like we have many other options at present, Max. We'll be waiting. Talon Two out."

At the final bark of the radio, they heard a voice shout, "Hey, what's that noise?" Immediately thereafter, there was the hiss and zing of rounds whirring by their ears…

Lisa's palms sweated heavily as she watched the bomb squad work their magic on the device attached to the reactor. Her eyes stung with salty sweat, nervously observing the technician's nimble fingers and hands as they scanned, x-rayed, and deactivated the bomb. The radio squawked, "_Lisa, what's happening down there?_"

"We've got our hands full at the moment, Admiral; there's an object attached to the main reactor, and I have two techs working on it."

"_Ok, I'll leave you alone, then. I don't want to screw it up for you. But get it done as soon as you can, we'll need the generator soon._"

"Acknowledged, Admiral. Lisa out."

She turned her head back towards the techies, and noticed one of them grinning like the cat that just ate a bird. "Captain Hayes, Ma'am? We just got it, it's dead now."

"Thank you, Sergeant. You just saved the life of every man and woman on this ship."

Max looked out into the black water as the chopper sped towards Vanessa's beacon. He knew something was wrong, that this mission was flawed and doomed somehow. He kept a tight grip on the handle of his rifle, cursing the fact that he had been forced to stay on the ship. If only he had gone instead of her!

Out over the edge of the clearing, Max heard shots clanging off the chopper's side armor. One flew through the open-side cockpit and blew out an instrument or two.

Max gestured wildly to the pilot. "Pull up; it's too hot down there."

The chopper gained altitude again, and Max radioed out, "Girls, I'm sorry, it's too hot down there. We took a few hits, and we're going to land a little further away and advance with the squad for rescue."

"_Copy that, Talon Prime. Two out._"

"_This is getting nutty out here,_" Rick said over the intercom.

Admiral Gloval looked out over the battlefield, and considered his next move. The battlefield was becoming chaotic very rapidly, with smoke roiling off of the corpses of downed mecha.

He saw how Rick's VT came under fire from an enemy mech; it was an Anubis-class scout prototype. He didn't have much to worry about; he was too close to it for the pilot to use his long-range missiles, unless they had been hot-loaded into the launcher, and the small laser couldn't do too much damage unless Rick got up close and insanely personal with the opposing pilot.

Henry watched as Rick aimed his cannon at the scout, pressed his trigger and waited for the inevitable result. The scout mech didn't stand a chance, didn't even have an opportunity to return fire; Rick's burst cracked its head wide open. He scanned the area; a column of five Spartan destroids was approaching from the west.

"_Skulls two and three, I need you here, pronto_," Rick shouted over the radio.

"Missile batteries, give Captain Hunter some cover fire, he needs it," Henry ordered. The short-range missile batteries hummed in response to the order. "Commander Hawthorne, get on the horn to the airfield, we need air cover along the waterfront."

"Aye, sir. Wheeler Field, get those dive bombers out there, pronto. We need cover out there," Hawthorne spoke into her headset. Static greeted her inquiry. "Wheeler, come in. Do you hear me?"

"…_hear you…1…-mand structure was…out by bombers…est inst..tions."_

Henry thought it over for a moment, realizing that he had no air reserves in the immediate vicinity. "Anti-personnel batteries, redirect fire towards the waterfront. And send the armored vehicle reinforcements to attack their flanks."

The AA batteries kicked in, as another wave of fighters swarmed at the SDF-1. Machine-gun fire and missiles screeched all around, and the thuds of impacts were constant, adding a percussion downbeat to the symphony of combat outside. The gunners started racking up impressive kill scores, as the enemy's fury redoubled around them. Suddenly, the enemy began withdrawing from the field.

"Admiral," his aides questioned him.

"Cease fire for the moment; all sensors and scanners at maximum," Henry ordered.

Max ordered the pilot to set the chopper down at the edge of the clearing, a klick and a half from the last known radio position that Vanessa had given. He crossed himself, praying that the girls would be alright. "Spenser, take Adams and Greene and follow me. Grab your medical gear."

"Aye, sir," Spenser replied.

Max looked at the crew chief. "Prep this bird for a medical evacuation. We have casualties coming, and I want them to ride home in style."

He got a nod from the crew left behind, and led his three-man patrol into the low brush. Every so often, they stopped, trying to get a response on the radio.

_CRACK!_

The sound of gunfire erupted through the light trees still standing near the volcano's edge. Max and his group hugged the dirt and returned fire towards the sound of the incoming rounds. He looked up and saw a squad of five enemy troopers firing into the woods. He stood up, aimed in their general direction, and fired at them, scattering them back among the rocks. He saw a colored scrap of fabric fluttering from the edge of the clearing, then whispered into the radio, "Talon Two, is that you?"

"_Loud and clear, Prime. Ready to go home._"

"Are you mobile? Do you need assistance?"

"_We've been knocked about a little, but we're able to move under our own power. Cover us; we're coming out._"

With that, Max and his men held their rifles at the ready and motioned for the girls to come out of the brush. Vanessa ran out first, joining the soldiers in drawing her weapon and covering her friends. Claudia was next, but as she ran the last few meters towards the cordon, one of the enemy troopers rose from the rocks and shot her in the back. Vanessa led Max and the others in returning fire, crippling the man and sending his cohorts running for their lives.

Or so it seemed. Vanessa then turned her attention to the litter being set up, and felt a warm sensation spread across her lower back. She fell forward and blacked out.

Spenser ran forward with the portable litter, and, with Greene's help, they got Claudia lifted on it and started the trek back toward the chopper. Max unfolded a second litter, and waved for the remaining two girls to come out into the open. Kim and Sammie made it out okay; Kim assisted Max in getting Vanessa onto the second litter. Once Vanessa was secured, they all started back behind Spenser and Greene. The chopper took off and sped toward the carrier with all due haste, to get its precious cargo home swiftly.

"This has to be some kind of gambit…but for what gain," Henry asked aloud.

"I think we're about to find out, sir," Erin, the communications officer, said. "Incoming transmission from the aircraft carrier parked out yonder."

"Patch it through."

"Aye, sir."

"_Henry, it's been a while since we last spoke,_" Maistroff began.

"If I wanted more empty platitudes, Vaclav, I'd go to a Minmei concert," Henry retorted. "What unholy sins have I committed to rate a call from you?"

"_I merely wished to discuss terms of surrender, Henry._"

"Good. You can start by…"

"_Not mine, YOURS! You have to see that your situation is helpless; you're surrounded, your airfields are destroyed, and your senior officers are missing. You're only delaying the inevitable._"

"This coming from the man that caused all of those situations to happen. What makes you think I'll grant you that satisfaction?"

"_Think of me as a humanitarian, Henry; I don't want to kill my fellow man, merely the Zentraedi infestation._"

"Unless you offer yourself over to me with a full confession and apology for your actions, Vaclav, I don't want to hear any of it," Henry concluded, giving the comm. officer a sharp look. She instantly switched channels away from Maistroff to Skull Leader.

"Rick, reform your squadrons and take out that carrier. Maistroff is on there, and if you sink him, those forces out there have nowhere to rally to or get direction from," Henry ordered.

"_Aye, sir._"

"The main cannon is currently aiming at the air armada, so we can't use it to assist you against the ship. But Vice Admiral Gates tells me that you should have two waves of reinforcements in your sector right about…_NOW_."

"_Skull Leader to Arrow Leader, welcome aboard, Rusty. Now let's be charitable and give that ship some extra munitions we won't be needing._"

"_Beats trying to sell them on eBay, Skull Leader._"

They swung their flight lines towards the ship off in the harbor.

AN: Thank you to all my reviewers and critics, as well as those who just plain have stuck with me this long. This chapter is long, and hopefully the next one will be the last. Comments/requests/reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	20. ConfutatisLacrimosa

Chapter XIX 

**_0400 - _**Henry looked at Lisa, who had rejoined him on the bridge. The cumulative results of nearly eight hours of continuous battle were beginning to wear at him; even some of the raids the SDF-1 endured on its trip back to Earth didn't last nearly this long. "Captain, I want all our forces to fire a salvo at their radar and sensor tower. If they can't see, they can't fight."

"Aye, Admiral. All remaining Phalanx units converge on the waterfront and fire at the coordinates I'm sending on the TAC channel. All VT's and other units, target that spot and blow it out of the sky," Lisa ordered.

The first salvo from the defending forces obliterated the radar tower on the _Vercingetorix_. Then, the VT wave came in low, dropping ordinance all around it, melting deck plates and sending guns overboard. The carrier's crew ran to battle-stations, sending up fighters in reply. Rick checked his sensors; he saw that the fighters weren't headed at his pilots, but straight back into Macross City. He converted his VT to Battloid mode and landed on the carrier deck, autocannon at the ready, feeling like he could take the whole ship apart rivet by rivet. Instead of going straight toward the trigger, though, he scanned and surveyed the ship, layer by layer, his rifle at the ready for uninvited company.

Back on the bridge, they were scanning the tactical screens and awaited the next step in destroying the carrier, when the enemy VT's came back toward the city. "Admiral, should we recall the fighter squadrons to cover our defense line," Lisa asked.

"Negative; they're needed out there to destroy the carrier. We'll rely on the barrier system for our defense, along with the AA batteries. It shouldn't take long," the Admiral responded.

Just as he finished speaking, a huge energy burst slammed into the barrier from behind them. "Tactical, what happened," Lisa screamed as the sirens roared to life and the communication channels filled with damage reports.

"Scanners are picking up a portable field gun battery in the southwest quadrant, captain. They're portable crew-served fieldpieces that fire what appear to be protoculture-laden shells," Hawthorne responded.

"That would explain a few things, sir," the engineering station chimed in. "For starters, the barrier system took a direct hit, and the generator is beginning to overload; it's beginning to fail, sir."

"Any way we can prevent that," Admiral Gloval asked.

"None whatsoever, sir. After that goes down, we'll have our normal reserve shielding, but it can't withstand another blast like that. And if we attempt to raise the barrier system again, there's a 65 probability that it'll chain-react. Not the best of odds, sir."

Admiral Gloval sat down in his chair, lost in thought. Rick and his VT wing could blast that carrier out of the sea at a moment's notice, but Maistroff could counter by blowing his bridge away, and nothing would be decided. Lisa and Rick would counterattack, and whoever replaced Maistroff would reply in kind; the term "Mexican Standoff" came to mind. He thought about his options, how to end this fast and without additional loss of life. "Captain Hunter, is the carrier secured," he asked.

"_All surface defenses are cleared off, Admiral, but we've yet to get below decks. It could get ugly down there._"

"Is Maistroff still alive down there?"

"_Hard to tell, but I think so, yes. At least, we haven't confirmed that he's dead_."

"Keep things just how they are, I'm coming over."

His bridge crew gasped in shock. "Admiral, I strongly protest," Lisa started saying, and Gloval cut her off.

"I'm going to go out there and arrest him. If he comes quietly, he stands trial. If he doesn't, I'll figure out what to do from there. But either way, this ends now, today, and not one day more."

"You're not going out there without a full squad," Lisa said, trying to get the final word.

Henry held his hands up. "Okay, you win. But I don't want you doing anything without my express order, Lisa. No backup, no rescue attempts, no interference without my say-so."

"Aye, sir," Lisa said, all the fight going out of her.

"Hunter, keep the zone secure. Lisa, take the conn. I'm suiting up, and I'll be there in five."

The wind over the deck was brisk and whipped Henry's overcoat as he stepped off the chopper's landing strut toward the remnants of the _Vercingetorix_'s superstructure; the six man squad followed behind him. Rick, by this time, had changed his VT to Gerwalk mode, landed, and exited the cockpit. He was mildly nervous; he only had his MOG, and the rest of the tactical team, including the admiral, was carrying Beryl rifles and wearing combat armor.

"Admiral, sir," Rick said. "The stairwell has been secured, and we stand ready to escort you below."

"Any idea how many people are below deck?"

"We've discovered that most of the remaining crew has abandoned ship. Scans of the armory show that it's empty; it's possible that the crew abandoned their posts and came ashore with that last wave of infantry. Those still left have spaced themselves out among a cluster of rooms between the main hanger and main Engineering. We figure on between a dozen and two dozen men, total," Rick said, consulting the scans his XO performed.

"And can we get a definite fix on Maistroff?"

"Nothing precise, but I figure he's going to be an a room that he can use to his advantage."

"Then let's go for it, before he can use that advantage. Rick, you and I will finish this. The squad can stay at the bottom of the landing as reinforcements. I'll take the high road, you'll take the low road."

"And I'll be in Scotland afore ye," Rick finished.

"Neither one of us is cut out to be "Macross Idol," Rick," Henry quipped, motioning with his head to head down the darkened stairs, between the scrapped metal of what used to be the doorframe and surrounding walls.

Rick holstered his MOG and took the Beryl that one of the security troopers offered him, swinging it up into a ready position. He lead Henry down the stairs, sweeping the barrel-mounted flashlight left and right in measured search quadrants. Henry followed behind, his rifle at the ready and looking for possible entrances to peek through. At the bottom of the stairs, Rick fanned out to the right and Henry continued straight ahead, through the heavy watertight door onto the secondary deck.

Lisa paced the bridge, feeling useless. She triple-checked each bridge station, called Engineering a half dozen times, and fumed silently. Admiral Gloval and Rick were over on the enemy command ship, and her friends from the bridge were all off on a mission in Washington State. Petty complaints, she knew, but the tension, while a normal part of battle, was not something she preferred to face alone. It'd always helped her, before, when Claudia and the girls were on the bridge, muttering off-the-cuff quips to release the pent-up tension they all felt.

Now, it was all she could do to refrain from snapping anyone's head off by the neck. The true love of her life, and the surrogate father she'd always wanted were both engaged in a mortal duel with a psychopathic renegade. "Communications, try raising the _Midway_, again. We may need their reinforcements, if the rebels renew their attack."

"Perfect timing, captain; they're hailing us."

"_UEG Midway_, this is SDF-1 Bridge, we are receiving."

Ragged breathing and the sound of a voice trying to choke tears away came over the intercom. "Lisa…it's Max. Can we go private?"

Lisa signaled the communications officer, then walked into Admiral Gloval's ready room. "Go ahead, Max. It's secure."

"This mission was bad, Lisa; sixty percent casualty rate. Vanessa and Claudia were both shot in the back, and are undergoing surgeries at the moment. They're on the razor's edge," Max said, his voice shaking perceptibly.

"How are the others," Lisa asked.

"Sammie and Kim are good; a few bruises and contusions, but otherwise fine No apparent broken bones." She heard the hesitation, the fear, and the loss in his voice before he even spoke his next words. "Miriya is missing and feared dead."

Lisa felt as if the world collapsed on her shoulders; she staggered against the deck as if a physical blow had hit her. "And their main base?"

"Destroyed."

She paused, trying to let it all sink in. "I wish there were words to say, Max, that could help you out at this moment. Right now, I have no idea what they would possibly be."

"I appreciate that, Lisa."

"Just get your ass back here. We need you and your buddies on that ship."

"Aye, Captain," he chuckled mirthlessly. "We've got a 30 minute ETA on New Macross City. I'll see you then."

"Great. And, Max?"

"Yes, Lisa?"

" Take care of yourself. Rick and I, hell, the whole crew, are here, if you need us."

"Thank you, Lisa. I love you all. I'll see you soon," he said, then cut the transmission.

Henry poked his head around the corner into Main Engineering, looking for his target, and was greeted by a gunshot ricocheting off the bulkhead above him. He looked in the direction of the shot, and saw Maistroff aiming his MOG at him. "You never learn, do you, Henry? This isn't personal between you and me; it's between the Zentraedi and me. Back off."

"This is not just between you and the Zentraedi. In your blind hatred of the Zentraedi, you concocted a biological weapon that could have wiped out every living thing on Earth. I know why you hate them, Vaclav. And believe me, I miss Sylvia and your children, as well…"

Maistroff fired again, a little closer to Henry's head. "Don't you dare speak about them that way! You speak their names, you mention their memories, but they are not the demons you see when you go to sleep every night!"

Henry raised his arms in mock surrender. "I know, Vaclav; I'm your friend, remember? The one who took you to see the counselor, the one who stopped you from putting a bullet through your head all those years ago?"

"You didn't care, Henry. Not you, not that stupid, pathetic counselor, not my superiors…nobody," he screamed, firing blindly in Henry's direction…

Lisa greeted Max on the flight deck as the chopper landed, and the full medical team stood ready to receive the casualties. Max struggled to stand up, but he pulled himself to his feet and assisted in getting Vanessa's stretcher off the chopper and into the welcoming arms of the medical team.

Lisa took Max's hand and led him off the chopper. She saw that he was just going into shock over Miriya's death, that his adrenaline high was just starting to wear off, and he was going to crash soon - hard. "Max, I know this isn't the best time, but I want you to know that we're all going to be here for you, to support you, help you get through this."

"Thanks, Lisa, I know that," he replied. "It may take me a while, though, because it doesn't seem all that real to me yet, you know?"

"I know." She gave him a tight, sympathetic hug. "C'mon, let's get you to the medical center for a checkup, now."

"Captain, I wish to return to flight status," Max said.

"Request denied, Captain Sterling. You're on the edge of breaking down, and I won't let you endanger your life, or the lives of my pilots, by letting you pursue a selfish course of action."

"But, Lisa…"

"Do I have to sedate you?"

"Oh, okay," he grumbled reluctantly, and allowed Lisa to guide him to the doctor's office, away from combat, and, momentarily, from the demons that were sure to follow him when he went to sleep later that day.

Rick went from room to room, flashing a light and checking every nook and cranny to make certain that the ship was neutralized. He arrived at the entrance to the sixth room, opened the door, and heard a noise. He flashed his light and saw a Gunner's Mate aiming an M-60 at him. Rick fired two quick bursts, downing his assailant. The rest of the room was deserted, barely lit, but a sounding chamber; noises were amplified tenfold. He heard gunfire going off behind him, down the hall at the intersection, so he ran towards the sounds.

"Admiral Gloval, are you okay," he called on his radio. He got no reply, so he ran even faster towards the Engineering section.

The three shots Maistroff fired seemed to slow, almost stopping in midair, as they rotated on their path towards Henry. Fortunately for the Admiral, his body armor was able to stop them more fully. Henry looked at Vaclav, stunned. "You're so consumed by your hatred that you would try to kill me, personally, Vaclav?"

"You stand between me and avenging the wrongs of the Zentraedi military might, their crashing into our planet, the indiscriminate massacre of our civilians. If you're not going to help me, you're just as bad as they are, condoning their actions and abetting their schemes," he railed, his eyes wild and bloodshot.

Gloval looked briefly over Vaclav's shoulder, spotted Rick stealthily entering the room through a second doorway. He didn't dwell on it, unwilling to give Maistroff a second target to shoot at. "The Visitor didn't intentionally hit Macross Island, Vaclav, it was hurtling wildly through space…"

The bullet went between Henry's legs this time. "Stop trying to placate me. I don't want to shoot you, Henry. But I will, if you refuse to stand down."

Henry aimed his pistol reluctantly at Vaclav's forehead, and Vaclav mirrored his friend's stance. "I don't want to kill you, my old friend. But if that is what I have to do, then I will," he said, giving Rick a fast nod to indicate that they should attack him now.

Rick rammed himself fast into Maistroff's back, tackling the older man to the floor and grabbing him into a headlock. Henry stood over his defeated comrade and offered a look of pity as he aimed his pistol at him. "You were once an honorable man, Vaclav. You were a friend, a comrade, a husband and a father. And now, you are none of those things any longer, for you have made yourself into what you despised most, a traitor to the human race," Henry said with regret.

Vaclav kicked Rick between the legs and snapped out of the headlock, sprinting out the door. Rick looked at Henry, eyes full of innovation, necessity, and pain. Henry nodded reluctantly, and Rick, grimacing in pain, radioed, "Skull group, security group, and all allied craft in the area, prepare an emergency cordon of five hundred yards around this beacon. We're gonna rig this ship for some fireworks. Clear the airspace."

"Rick, go back to your fighter. You don't need to do this. This is my fight," Henry said, looking at Rick as he walked over to the furnace.

"Henry, they targeted us all; you, me, Lisa, Claudia, Max, Miriya, and the Trio. We're all in this together. And if this is the last act, there's no one I'd rather face the final curtain with than you."

Henry's eyes welled slightly at that last remark, then swallowed them back and said, "Rig the furnace for five minutes, then run to your fighter. I have to take Maistroff alone."

"How will you get out?"

"I don't know, Rick," Henry said seriously. "But he must be stopped, and I will be the one that stops him."

Rick watched as his commanding officer, and a true friend, walked away, out the door and slowly up the stairs towards his ultimate destiny.

Henry walked out onto the deck slowly, each leg feeling as if it had been encased in concrete. The wind had picked up slightly, and the dawn was breaking slowly across the horizon, each scarlet stream of light playing across the sky like fiery rain. The rain from the previous night had ceased, yet the air was still chilly, heavy with the lingering weight of precipitation and sea spray. He walked toward the rear of the superstructure, or, rather, what was left of it. "I know what you've come to do, Henry," came a soft voice from the stern of the ship.

Henry looked in that general direction, saying, "And you know why I have to do it, as well."

"I will never surrender, you know that."

"As I expected. To the death, then?"

"If you wish to see St. Peter so prematurely, then so be it."

Henry rushed forward, swinging both fists into Vaclav's midsection with tremendous force. He followed it up with a quick roundhouse kick, sending his adversary to the floor. Vaclav rose, sending his fist sharply and harshly at the underside of Henry's jaw, snapping his head back harshly. Henry saw stars, but recovered quickly, throwing Vaclav across the deck as he tried to choke Henry in an arm lock. Vaclav slid across the rain-slicked deck, stopping just at the edge.

Henry drew his pistol again, caught his breath, and advanced across the deck. His step felt light, as it hadn't been in years; he knew something irrevocable was about to happen, and yet this odd, typically unsettling feeling of finality was like a balm to him. He couldn't turn back the clock, but he could put an end to the latest travesty, and make sure that nothing like that ever happened again.

Henry stepped over the downed body of his former friend, Vaclav, putting his pistol to the man's temple. "Prepare to meet your maker, if that is what you believe in," he said gently.

Vaclav snarled, "Only if we meet him together," and stabbed Henry as he pulled the trigger. Henry gasped in pain and shock, then fell to the deck, blood gushing from his guts. Odd, he thought, that only at the end of his life could he put things in perspective.

His had never been the perfect life; he loved too greatly, felt too deeply, and could not stop three major wars from happening. He blamed himself for the war with the Zentraedi; if they had been able to decipher their language and customs sooner, then maybe the Earth wouldn't have been destroyed. He blamed himself for Maistroff's insurrection; if he had nipped it in the bud sooner, then more needless deaths would have been averted. But mostly, he regretted taking his wife to the hospital that night. Her parents had insisted on hiring a midwife to assist in the delivery, but he refused, not willing to believe in such an ancient practice in the modern era. So when the suicide bomber had killed Irina, Henry had wished that he had been in her place instead of her and their child. _Too many regrets, _he told himself.

The darkness started filling his eyes as his breathing slowed, and he slumped against the deck, the sunlight filling his eyes and flooding his mind. _Irina, wait for me. I'm coming home._

Rick ran up onto the deck, searching for Henry. He saw the bodies slumped on the far edge of the deck, and ran over. He found Henry, the pulse was slow but present, and there was a lot of blood on the deck. He lifted the body up in his arms, checked his watch, and ran towards his fighter; he only had a minute and a half left. He buckled himself in, laid Henry across his lap gently and carefully, and lifted off as the burning _Vercingetorix_ detonated underneath them.


	21. A Hero's Reward

Epilogue 

The body of Henry J. Gloval, Admiral, USSR, UEG, and SDF-1, was laid out to rest in a coffin of finest mahogany, lined with white silk, and dressed in his full dress uniform, complete with cap. His pip was laid in the crook of his left arm, and his medals were laid out on the side table next to him. They were laid out by order of the countries he served; the Order of Lenin, the Order of Ushakov First Class (awarded twice), the Order of the Red Banner, the Medal for Valor, and three Gold Stars from the USSR for conduct during the Global Civil War, the UEG Medal of Exploration, the Terran Medal of Honor (for conduct at the Battle of the Line, as well as commanding the SDF-1 back home through hostile assaults). All of these were accompanied by a host of honorary decorations, such as the US Congressional Medal of Honor (the only non-US recipient ever to earn it), the Israeli Star of David, and the British Order of the British Empire, from the various nations of the UEG for various brave acts over the course of his fifty-seven years, of which more than half were spent in uniformed service to the people of Earth.

Brevet-Admiral Elizabeth Juliet Hayes took to the rostrum, her green eyes filled with tears that would not go away and refused to stay out of her voice. She looked into the crowd, down at the front row of attendees, to steady herself. Claudia looked pretty good, her injuries were healing, and she had needed no bandages from her ordeal in the rebel's prison. Kim and Sammie were equally as healed.

Vanessa, though, was not as fortunate. She had been shot through the spine in the final assault and escape from Mount St. Helens, and the doctors were unable to repair the damaged areas without making them worse, so she had been told she would, in all likelihood, be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She had refused to take that as an answer, however, and was pushing herself through painful therapy to regain the use of her legs. Lisa had to smile through her tears at the thought of her friend's courage.

The chapel on board the SDF-1 offered limited space for such a memorial service, but it had been selected for it's ramp that allowed bodies to be lowered into the lake after the funeral services. Rick stood at her left, two paces to the rear. He was wearing a face of grim stoicism, his jaw set in fierce determination not to break down during the service. Max was seated at the right side of the rostrum, looking off into space. Since Miriya had died, he seemed an empty shell of his former cheerful, optimistic self, a defeated, bitter man. Rick had told her that, in time, Max would come around, that her death was too fresh in his mind to feel otherwise. She hoped he was right.

Lisa stepped forward, cleared her throat, and began her speech. "My friends, fellow officers, and honored comrades, I welcome you.

"This service, held in honor of our commander and friend, Henry Gloval, is not to focus on his stellar career, his command confidence, or any other matter that is part of public record. I wanted to speak of him as a person, a surrogate father to me when I needed it most," she said, her voice catching at the mention of the word father.

"Henry Gloval was a friend of my father, Admiral Donald Hayes. One night, when I was eleven or twelve, I remember my dad bringing him over for drinks, introducing him as an 'old war buddy' and telling me to call him 'uncle'. 'Uncle Henry' was always around the house more than my father ever was, as dad's duties for the new government kept him out late at night. Uncle Henry was part of dad's staff, but dad always thought of his crew before he thought of himself, so when he got out from dad's staff meetings, he came over to our house to eat dinner with me and ask how my day had been. I often felt that, by talking to him, I was talking to my own dad, and that kept my family together."

Lisa spread her hands openly towards the crowd. "I know each of you have their own stories to tell about how this great, truly special man touched each and every life in this room. There isn't time enough to read them all, but I'd be honored if, in the days and weeks to come, you would all seek me out, individually, and share them with me."

Struggling to stand up fully, she came to attention, saluted the casket, and said, "From the sea we came, to the sea we return, from now until the end of time. In honor of this, we commit this soul to the deep."

She nodded at the ensign at the lever, who began his operations, and the Bo'sun's mate piped the whistle, bringing everyone to their feet. The casket moved along a conveyor belt towards the far end of the room, directly over the lake, and started lowering through the floor. Four bagpipe players came through the door, playing "Amazing Grace," as the casket was gently lowered into the azure waters of the lake.

Lisa saluted the casket as it gently kissed the water's edge, nestled softly into it's embrace, and began it's solitary journey toward the bottom, where it would rest with dignity for the rest of time. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of extreme sadness, watching her surrogate father finally rest in peace. She felt Rick's soft hand on her shoulder and realized that she wouldn't be alone in facing her grief; she could share it with the rest of the crew, and, most importantly, her friends and her husband to be.

The rays of the sun parted the clouds that had previously covered the city that was mourning its greatest champion, illuminating the chapel and the casket slowly sinking below it in a holy glow, giving the entire scene a heavenly appearance. Lisa stood slowly in the pure sunlight, bidding a silent farewell to the most important father figure in her entire life. _Goodbye, 'Uncle Henry', I'll see you at the journey's end._

AN: Well, I started this story arc with "Racing the Bullet," over two years ago, then expanding through "Cat and Mouse," and into this current story, but I never intended for it to grow this far in scope! I want to extend my heartfelt appreciation for the various and sundry people who have enabled me to write and keep the inspiration flowing, and occasionally being a beta for me. The list is long and distinguished, but I know I'll forget some names, so please be patient with me. Carla, Jo, Aiki, KnightsTemplar (who never visits the new forum any longer), gppr, and many others. I value everything you have offered me for advice, constructive criticism, and character development. Please review; I want to know if you like the end to my vision of the Robotech world.


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